Of Humans and Fairies
by Tessandra
Summary: Remember how Ella is a Friend of the Fairies? A human with Fairy blood? Well, that means a human and fairy had to have children once. So that takes us back to Laeliena, ancester of Ella . . . Please R&R!
1. Prologue

Ella balanced her daughter on her lap, while Char sprawled across the couch, their son Prince Evon at their feet.  
"Mama?" asked little Princess Kahtri of four years. "Mandy said you an' me an' Evon are 'friends of the Fairies." What's that?"  
Her father answered her. "It means you, Evon and Mama have fairy blood in you." He smiled at his wife. "It also means you have very tiny feet."  
The nine-year-old heir frowned. "But we're mortals . . . If we have fairy blood, doesn't that mean a fairy and human had to marry long ago?"  
Char looked startled. He turned toward his beloved, "Well?"  
"Ah," Queen Ella of Frell said, "now that is a story worth telling."  
  
And so here is the story of the human Laeliena of Cyri - and the immortal she fell in love with . . . 


	2. Exiled

Heylo . . . redid this chapter. I still don't like it that much, but I like it better then what I had before. If you haven't read this story before, thank you for trying it - I hope you like it!  
  
*********  
  
"What?!" I exclaimed, never one for tact, "Banished?"  
  
He only stared at me stonily. He was very good at that, the king. I can't say I was particularly fond of the way his cold gray eyes bore into me, but then no one here seemed to care about what I felt. I shivered, feeling colder by the minute as he continued to stare at me. I nervously wrapped a strand of brilliant red hair around my finger.  
  
"Banished," he repeated, "Unless . . . " he trailed off. I looked up, not daring to hope. Still, "unless" was a good sign. At least, I thought it was. "Unless you withdraw your refusal."  
  
My mouth dropped open as I heard his words. I had been told of the royalty's insane whims, but I had never expected one to touch me. I was only a thief, after all, only a peasant. I had never imagined that my unstable sovereign would demand something this ridiculous of me. "Your Majesty," I choked out, at the same time being astonished I was actually having this conversation with my king. "You can not be serious. I am a peasant!" I gestured down at my scrubby clothes to emphasize my point. "An orphan. I am penniless!"  
  
The king only glared. "Your station and riches to not matter. They would all be absolved no matter who the bride is."  
  
"King Raibvin, I will not marry your son! " I cried out desperately. Was it possible to make him realize what a mistake this was? When foreigners entered home, the capital of my country, I heard mutterings of how backward the ruling family was, with their odd obsessions. Still, I would never have believed that, in the middle of a completely ordinary day, I would be hauled off the street and dragged to the castle. Without giving me time to change, I had been given an audience with the king, in his cold stone fortress. He demanded that I marry his son. Me, a common street-rat, just because I had not so common looks. I scowled, at my king, feeling less intimated as I realized how insane this was. It wasn't my fault that I was beautiful Surely he wouldn't exile me just because I wouldn't marry his pathetic excuse for an heir.  
  
Apparently he would. "Then you will marry no one in my kingdom," he said coolly. "As you are banished forever. Guards!"  
  
At the call for guards, I admit I panicked. For some reason, thieves and soldiers just don't mix. Besides, they were the ones who had apprehended me from the marketplace earlier, so I feeling an amazing amount of ill will towards them. However, I couldn't quite manage to grasp the fact that they wanted to through me out of the only home I'd ever known. I may have been an orphan, but that didn't mean I had no close friends. I struggled harder as the guards grabbed me, trying to rescue myself, at the same time knowing it was impossible. I raised my eyes to the smiling king. His flat eyes reminded me that I could free myself my deciding to marry his son. Instead, I threw my chin up high and allowed the guards to cart me off.  
  
For a moment I almost screamed that I would do it, that I'd do anything, as long as I didn't have to leave with these leering guards and as long as I could stay in my country. The guards were smiling nastily. "Hello, pretty," one to the left of me sneered, running his hand brusquely over my breasts. I tried to kick at him put he only laughed and stepped from my reach. I tried to fight the men, put they only pulled harder. Finally, a hand descended on my face and all I saw was black.  
  
* * *  
  
When I woke, I knew I had been knocked unconscious, not drugged, which at least meant there wouldn't be any after effects. I lay in the carriage, feigning sleep as I listened to their crude jokes and laughter. Silently, I tested the bonds around my hands and feet, finding them tied securely. I cursed myself for not taking the king more seriously.  
  
They took me to the border of our country. I could see through a crack in the carriage, where a wooden panel was slightly bent out near the floor. Peering through it, I watched as I was moved further and further away from my home. I spent one uncomfortable night there, given only water. By the time we reached the border, in the middle of the King's Forest, I was unhappy, cramped, and furious. I'd had more then enough time lying there and reflecting on what had happened.  
  
Why does my king have to be so cruel? I thought bitterly. And why was fate so mean? I would never had been in this position if I hadn't tried to steal from one of the king's guards, who had my partner - the youth I was in love with - and I thrown into the dungeon. It was only my beauty that - saved - me.  
  
I was brought up of the streets, as a thief. I learned how to use knifes and daggers, how to slip silently into a locked house. My life was everything I had ever wished for; I had never wanted fine clothes or houses. Everything I wanted was within my reach - I just had to steal it first. I was a respected, having made a name for myself after I started pickpocketing at four. One of the things that made be such a perfect thief was one unique to me; I was absolutely gorgeous.  
  
I do not have any false modesty. I've never seen the point in pretending I'm not lovely. I've never acted ashamed that I'm beautiful, or embarrassed because of it, as beautiful girls are supposed to. More to the point, I'm absolutely happy using my looks as a thief. If people are going to be less careful of their moneypouches because I'm 'just a pretty wench' well, I'll let them.  
  
But it was my beauty that was my downfall. My golden eyes, my rich, luxurious red hair. It was when Prince Praithan of my realm Yvonhe decided he wanted me for his own. And yes Praithan is an incredibly handsome boy, with his golden looks, and the first time I saw him, I felt like swooning like the rest of the city, but I felt nothing but disgust when he stopped by my dungeon cell. He had a sick, twisted mind. He was evil, pure evil, much worst then his father who at least had some heart - even if it was cold as ice.  
  
Praithan wanted me - wanted me in marriage no less. However, his father was the king, and so I assumed that I would be dismissed as a peasant and sent back to the streets.  
  
By the Lady, I was wrong.  
  
Banished, I thought bitterly. Where would I go? I would have no reputation in other countries - I would have to start from scratch. I let out a groan, frustrated; it could get no worse then this. I would be a thief of course. Funny, I thought sarcastically, given the choice to be Princess or thief I chose thief. Unfortunately for me, I was beginning to regret that. I was about to be abandoned on foreign soil, apart from the small, close-knit family I had belonged to. For all I knew, Johen was still in the dungeon, and possibly much much worse. My face paled just thinking about what might have happened. We might not have been lovers, but Praithan thought we were, and there were some terrible places to be a captive in this country. The torture methods were unbelievable . . . Not to mention Tari and Dein, who I might never see again if I wasn't able to slip back into Cyri in a few years.  
  
The carriage jerked to an abrupt stop, causing me to slam against one of the walls. I muffled a groan as one of the soldiers hauled me out of the carriage, pushing me up against it. I had expected to just be dumped and left, but evidently I was wrong. The five men closed in on me.  
  
"Now, missy, what have we here . . . "  
  
* * *  
  
I looked grimly after the last two, who had jumped on their horses and rode off rather then face a girl. Beautiful I might be, but they'd obviously decided that my body wasn't worth the fight I put up. My eyes flicked over to the other three men, who lay on the ground, unconscious. One I was sure was dead, and as I looked at them I felt a tossing in my stomach. Falling onto all fours, I started retching uncontrollably, even after there was nothing left in me. My dry heaves filled the silence, until I was finally able to rock back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the remains of my dress. I stumbled up and started walking in the opposite direction the horses had come from, not caring about the men. Killing one was not what had made me uncomfortable; I didn't regret it. What they had done to me before I was able to wound them was what disgusted me.  
  
I hadn't lived my entire life on the streets without learning how to handle people without weapons, especially, large, dangerous men, usually drunk. And I hadn't lived that long with out learning how to hide a weapon or two, which was why I was able to keep a single dagger. No one expects a hairclip to unfold into such a deadly weapon.  
  
Still, it had taken a while before I was free, and I had been humiliated more then I could imagine by then. It could have been worse, I reminded myself as I stumbled along. It would have been, for most girls. After all, a severe beating and groping wasn't half of which most poor girls dealt with. My mouth pulled into a distorted half smile. Most girls hadn't had my skills.  
  
Finally, exhausted, I dropped to the ground, curling into a ball in the fragments of my ripped and muddy dress. Only then did the tears come, stupid as I thought they were. The feeling of helplessness I had first felt wouldn't leave though, nor would the repetitive punches and kicks, like I was a bag to practice of. Thank the Lady and the Lord they hadn't gotten what they really wanted . . . That piece of comfort didn't stop the tears from rolling down my face, though, and it didn't stop me, as I shook with humiliation and hurt, to never let a man touch me again. Finally, eyes still blurry, I let sleep embrace me.  
  
When I woke, I pulled myself together. Years on the street had taught me to keep living no matter what, no matter the cost for life itself was always worth it. I refused to look back on yesterday - though I hardly could not, considering the black, blue and purple bruises already showing all over my flesh, and the broken feeling in my ribs. I hurt, but would go on - I had to.  
  
I washed myself with the morning dew, spreading it all over me, as if it would help. My dress was ruined, as were my underclothes. I frowned gazing upon them, but they were all I had so I put what was left of them back on. The skirt half was in tears and almost completely unhitched from the waist, but I was able to hold it together with one hand. One sleeve was ripped halfway off, but at least it was still on. There was a rip going from the back until my hips. I sighed clutching my clothes to hold them together then setting off for a town. At least both my shoes were in mint condition.  
  
The sun grew higher and with it my spirits. Yes, I had been exiled - but my realm was nothing to like. Yes, I had left behind by only home - but I had no family, or people I could truly call friends. And yes, I had been assaulted, beaten, and almost raped - but as I was always telling other girls, life goes on.  
  
Two days later, starving, dirty, and unpresentable, I reached a farmstead. I stared at it for a long moment, then gave a crooked half smile. Maybe I should try being honest for once; not like they'd believe me anyway.  
  
I headed for the door. 


	3. The Farmhouse

I reached the sturdy farm door and considered my options. I could just bang on the door to get them to open it, or pretend to be a beggar. There goes being honest. What did I want from these people? Money, food, clothes, a roof for the night. And the best way to gain this was to play on their sympathy.  
I lowered my self to the doorstep, and tried a tentative knock, then one a little bit louder. "Hello?" I called out in a wavering voice, one that would probably be heard. I tried another knock, then covered my hands with my face and burst into tears. I added a few wails, and when no one came, I increased their volume . . . . and then, voila! The door opened inward.  
I lifted my tear-streaked head, ready for a farmwife with whose feelings I could play on. I gave another sniff, then delicately wiped my eyes of water. My mouth shaped with words for a well-placed plea -  
And I stared into the face of a boy a few years older then me.  
"Oh!" I said, covering my mouth. I winced, as I sounded like the damsel in distress I was playing. Then I color washed my face as I realized what the boy was seeing; what would look like a poor lost girl to a farmwife would probably look like an obnoxious whore to the boy.  
"Who are you?" the boy said, brown eyes staring down at me. He had a stern look about him, with sandy blond hair falling into his eyes.  
"Uh . . ." I said intelligently, staring at the boy. He frowned at me, his head tilted slightly.  
"Have you business here?" he demanded, and I did not know how to answer. For one of the first times in my life, I was completely speechless.  
"Then be off with you, girl, if you've no reason to be here." He ran a disapproving eye over me. "And buy yourself some decent clothes." He made as if to shut the door in my face.  
"Who's there, Aiven?" a female voice called. A young woman dressed in a blue homespun dress appeared a babe cradled at her breast. Her sandy hair was worn up in a high bun with many hairs escaping, and her sharp brown eyes did a quick once over of me. Her eyes softened immediately, as I had hoped a farmwife's would. (Though she was considerably younger then the one I'd imagined.) "Oh let her in," Aiven's sister commanded, for she could be no one else with their looks so close. Aiven reluctantly obeyed.  
The three of us stood there in the hallway, the two of then looking at me, and I staring at the floor. The young woman then looked back at Aiven. "Why are you still lingering here, brother? There is no reason. Be off with you." With her free hand she took my arm and led me away, unknowing that she had echoed Aiven earlier words.  
She led me through a narrow hallway, and up a flight of stairs. At the top she opened a door and walked in. It was a bedroom; there was a two- person bed, a cradle, a dresser and a mirror. The woman pushed me onto the bed, lowered the babe into the cradle, and went to the dresser.  
"Here," she said, tossing a few garmets at me. "Put these on and let me have a look at you." I did as told, pulling on the light green woolen dress, and white stockings. The dress was too long and loose in the middle, but it if well enough. Aiven's sister looked critically at me, then gave a brief nod. "Good," she said, and sat on the dresser.  
"Thank you," I said sincerely. "If it is not too much to ask, may I have a bite to eat? Then I'll be on my way . . ."  
"Nonsense," she said briskly. "You'll stay here tonight, and not leave the house til you've had a good wash."  
"Yes ma'am,' I said meekly, but I felt triumphant inside. "I'm called Damslae."  
"And I'm Kiyra. Now, what happened to you?"  
All my triumph drained away. I swallowed quickly, then spun out a lie. "I am from Yvonhe. My family . . . they were killed. In a fire." I swallowed hard and looked away. "I was gone from home at the time - the only one. The house was - was burned to the ground. I have no other relatives in Yvonhe." I turned and looked her in the eyes. "I have relatives in Siata, though, and I am traveling there. "I glanced ruefully down at my clothes. "Unfortunately, all my worldly possessions are what I had on at the time of the fire." I gave a helpless little half shrug, and met her eyes again. "So here I am." Kiyra stared down at me for a long moment, but her eyes were unseeing. The brown iris seemed to spin, though when I blinking it stopped. She shook her head slowly, very slowly, then seemed to see me again.  
"That is a lie," she said, her brown eyes piercing my golden ones. "A lie."  
I stared, disbelieving, at her. "What?" I asked. A lie? And how would she know?  
"Aye," she said. "Now tell me the truth."  
I stared at her, my mind drawing a blank. I opened my mouth to protest her words, then closed it. Her eyes were sharp as a hawks. She would sense whatever I told her as truth or lie. I sucked in a breath.  
"My parents are dead." She watched me, weighing my words. I closed my eyes. "They've always been dead. Or if they're alive, I've never met them. I was raised in the gutters." Though my eyes were closed, I could sense Kiyra nodding. I continued, "I had a good life. Good pickings, off the nobles. I was a thief, a sometimes assassin." I opened my eyes to see how she'd react. She didn't - just kept staring. I glanced away, uncomfortable. This was harder then I thought, and those eyes didn't help either.  
"I'm beautiful," I said, but there was no vanity in those words. "A man - a powerful one - wanted me. I refused him." I stared at my feet, wondering why I felt so compelled to go on.  
"His father said - said if his son couldn't have me, no one could. Had some men take me to the border. They -" I swallowed, my throat dry. "They left me there."  
"Ah," she said, and nothing else.  
"And I wandered through the woods til I came here." I shrugged. "That's all." I felt like I would cry, but I choked back the tears. I didn't cry. I never cried.  
"Here," the young woman said in a gentle voice, "Follow me and I'll bring you to the bathing house." I followed downstairs and outside to the bathing pool.  
* * *  
It felt incredibly wonderful just to relax in my bath, letting the grime and dirt wash away. Letting everything wash away. I closed my eyes, and before I knew it I had drifted off to sleep.  
It was darker when I woke, the water cold, the air chilly. This family was rich indeed to have their own pool house. I took a gray towel, then redressed in the clothes Kiyra had given me. I walked back to the house, pausing a moment to stare up at the clear summer sky. Not one cloud obscured my view as I watched the heavens.  
"What am I to do?" I whispered softly. The stars gave me no answers. People said there were pictures in the sky, but I never saw them. I sighed once, then entered the house.  
Dinner was a lively affair. The household was Kiyra's, as her parents were dead, and along with her husband and children, she had five younger siblings to care for. Except for Kiyra, I was politely ignored, though sometimes I would catch Aiven watching me when he thought I wasn't looking. His brown eyes were masked, hiding his thoughts. Only once did I meet his eyes, and instead of flushing and turning away, he only nodded gravely and returned to his food.  
Kiyra insisted I stay with them, even though I would have left the next day. "We cannot just send you off," she protested. Stay til the Day of Roses. It is only two weeks off. My brother Aiven then is leaving journey to Bast; he can accompany you on your way, until you reach Polan." I had told her of my wish to see that great city. Though I nodded in acquiescence and asked no questions, I was curious to why a farm boy would be traveling so far from his home.  
The next two weeks parted in a blur. The Day of Roses was being prepared for, of course, the day when the Lady had walked on Earth, creating life on the barren planet and as she roamed, roses grew in her footprints, representing life - the beauty and pain of it.  
Aiven spoke only when he had to speak to me, which annoyed me more then a little. Of all the men, he was the only I could bear, and yet he wanted nothing to do with me. When any other man came near me, I shied away like a frightened filly, the memory of the soldiers overwhelming me. But I felt no threat from Aiven.  
Only once did he speak to me other then when he had to. It had been raining that day, a sudden thunderstorm as we worked in silence in the barn. The animals had gone crazy, and it had taken the two of us a long time to settle them. We had finally accomplished that, and had sat in an uncomfortable silence, trapped away from the house. I tried to speak several times, but his responses to my questions were usually one worded. I eventually gave up, but several minutes later, as I sat playing with the straw, he lowered himself to a sitting position across from me and leaned close, eyes dark and serious.  
"Beware the denizens of flame and air, for they are as callous and sadistic as they appear celestial and ethereal. The daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin ought never consort with such kind, nor the hamadryad. Beware the mists of earth and water, for they are as deadly as the first. And beware the beauty of the Saint, for as the circle spins her time will come to bare another face, and if trust be placed in her hands, the Aevai'in will doubtless be caused." He lifted one hand to touch my cheek, light as a feather. "For the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin is the last hope, so let she be blessed by the stars that light her path."  
I stared, dumbfounded, as he stood and walked to the barn door. He opened it, and I winced, ready for a cold blast of rain to blast into our shelter. But as he opened the door, the storm stopped, and Aiven walked out into the clear, water free air.  
Aiven did not speak again of his words, and I somehow could not bring myself to ask of them, though they were all I really thought of. Who was the Eternal Lah'nayin? What was the Aevai'in? And what would a farm boy know of 'denizens of flame and air' and the 'mist of earth and water'? Were these his words, or had he quoted them from somewhere else? Who was the Saint? Why was the daughter the last hope? The last hope for what?  
At last the Eve of the Day of Roses came. First the festival, and then the next day would be on the road with Aiven.  
There would be no way he could escape my questions, then. 


	4. Day of Roses

A/N Thank y'all for the reviews - I love them! (Reviews are what make the world go round; or not, but whatever.) Yeah, the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin is probably who you're guessing. (Unless if I decide to change it on a whim; I'm like that.) And yes, there will be romance in this; (tho not as much as West and Robert) there's Aiven; the fairy dude; and probably a few other guys I'll throw in just for fun. But I don't know who she'll stick with. Oh, and this chapter might seem way religious, what with the Lady and Lord and Priestess and everything, but don't think that means I am. I'm an atheist - a Jewish atheist that celebrates Christmas. But whatever. You probably just wanna read the story. Thanx again for the reviews!  
  
The day of Roses dawned misty, but became bright and clear. I know, because I watched. At the farm, for the past weeks everyone had risen before first light, and though we were permitted to sleep late on the Day of Roses, I chose not to. A thief never sleeps late.  
  
I sat outside on a small stone wall as the sun began to rise. The chill from the gray stone seeped through my dress, but I did not mind. I loved being out doors - a good thing, too, as I'd spent most of my life thus. Morning mist clung to my long white robe, the same clothing every female wore on this day; a long white gown, sleeveless and with no waist, that hung loosely to cover out bare feet. Men wore a white tunic that reached their knees, and loose white britches. They wore no head covering or boots. We were all equal on this day; all modeled in the image of the Lady and the Lord.  
  
As I sat, watching the silent village that lay beneath the hill the farm was on, I heard footsteps approaching me. "There you are, Damslae," Kiyra said, long sandy hair unbound for once. "You look like a ghost, sitting there with the mist swirling about you." She sat beside we, watching in companionable silence as the sun cast an orange glow on the village below us, and the mist began to dissolve. After a few minutes, Kiyra spoke again. " There will be music and dancing, and feasting for all. Everyone will be there."  
  
I nodded in agreement, remembering how I'd spent the last Day of Roses. Everyone from the king to the lowliest beggar had been decked in white. I had danced on the common square in front of the palace with Johen. Johen, who had lived life with such spirit, lifting flowers from the merchants and tossing them to the orphans. Delivering a rose between his teeth to me, swinging me out of the arms of my dance partner. Johen, who had always been there, taking such joy in risks and dancing. But Johen was dead these past four months of a knife in the back. I'd never see him again, except in my memories.  
  
"Are you all right?" Kiyra asked, examining me.  
  
"Aye," I said, nodding and shaking myself loose of the past. The two of us stared down at the village, at the sun, for another long moment before Kiyra spoke up.  
  
"Damslae -" she broke off, and I glanced curiously towards her. But she was not looking at me, so I looked away from her. "Damslae, when you came her first - you were - ah -" she appeared at lost, but I saw her out of the corner of my eye shake her head lightly, as if to clear if. "Are you with child?"  
  
Oh.  
  
I stared at the sun blindly, hands pressed hard against the stone. I was washed with unpleasant memories, thoughts I'd meant to leave behind. But I turned my head to face Kiyra, who now faced me, and shook my head. "No," I said softly. "It was never a possibility." Never a possibility, because they hands had killed the men before they could take me.  
  
She breathed out in relief, then jumped up. "We should go in; the sun has risen, let us wake the others."  
  
I nodded in agreement, glad for the topic to be changed, and followed her into the house.  
  
* * *  
  
Of all the things about the Day of Roses, what I love the best has always been the dancing. Dancing of any sort; group, alone, in couples. But this year was different. As I stood near the dance floor, I was aware of many eyes apprising me. As men neared me, I turned away. I could not stand to be touched by any of them. It was too soon, too painful still. Mentally, I berated myself for being so uncaring and brusque, as I'd always been to any whimpering young girl who stood in the shadows, obviously scared and mistreated by men. The only one I could stand now was Aiven - though Lady knows he always seemed to be avoiding me. . . I glanced around, trying to see him, but I could not. As I swiveled my head a second time I spotted him standing at the edge of the dance floor with a pretty brunette. I felt a surge of jealously surge up, put I pushed it away. It's not as if he's ever paid any attention to you, I thought to myself. I then 'wandered' over to a drink stand, close enough to hear what they were saying.  
  
"- must stay! What is there in Bast that there is not here?" that from the girl, gazing at Aiven with soulful blue eyes.  
  
"I am sorry, Chayette, but I must go. You know that."  
  
"Don't you love me?" she wailed, and Aiven winced as several people turned to look. I spared a glance toward the girl. Way to be subtle.  
  
"Chayette, please - " But I did not hear the rest as a young man spoke directly to me.  
  
"Excuse me, but could I have the pleasure of a dance with you?" I blinked once. He was fairly handsome. Brown hair just long enough to be tied back, eyes so dark a gray they were almost black. I restrained myself from taking a step back. The man had the built of a blacksmith, and I wanted nothing to do with him. Once I would have danced gladly, but ever since . . .  
  
"Um . . ." I stalled, looking towards Aiven and the brunette. But he was ignoring her now. Instead, he was staring intensely at me, eyes unreadable. I forced myself to turn from him. "Sure," I said loudly, bestowing a huge smile on the young man.  
  
But as we whirled out on the floor, I could feel myself stiffen. I kept myself from flinching away, and kept on smiling. Still, I was uncomfortable in his arms, and the appreciative glances I received from other men disturbed me. When the song ended, I made as if to leave the floor, but I was snatched up by another man, and then yet another. Soon I was sure I would either scream or faint. A young man with black hair was my partner in the tune, and as we spun, I felt like I would soon break away. The black haired boy smiled at me and leaned forward. I stiffened, terrified -  
  
"Pardon me." The young man looked up in annoyance; I let out my breath silently, in relief, and turned to look at my rescuer.  
  
Aiven stood in front of me with a scowl on his face - which didn't do anything to mare his features, I might add.  
  
"What," said my partner, more of a statement then a question. But Aiven ignored him and addressed me.  
  
"What are you doing, dancing with him? With anyone and everyone?"  
  
I was to surprised to say anything, but apparently the black haired young man didn't have that problem. "And why shouldn't she dance with me?" he asked angrily.  
  
"She can't," Aiven said flatly. I started, and not only because these were more words then he'd said together to me since I first met him and the whole 'Beware this, beware that' thing. How did he know? Kiyra swore she hadn't told anyone, not even her husband.  
  
"And why not?" my partner asked boldly, taking a step closer to Aiven. "You don't look to be of any relation to her," he sneered, for that was obvious. "You have no claim on her." A small crowd had gathered and more had come to see what was going on. I recognized the beginning of a fight; it wouldn't be the first over me.  
  
I winced as I thought that, realizing how conceited it sounded. But it was only the truth.  
  
"Aye, I do," Aiven said, and though I tried to catch his eye, it didn't work.  
  
"I doubt that," the black haired man teen said, raising his hand.  
  
"She's my betrothed."  
  
I stared at Aiven, who, expressionless, stared at my partner, who stared back at him, letting his hand drop. Whispers started circulating, and everyone watching started talking at once. Aiven took my arm and pulled me through the crowd. The black haired young man just stood there. After all, what could he do? He had nothing against a claim like that.  
  
But that was all it was - a claim. I stopped being stunned as Aiven pulled me into the trees. "What was that about?" I hissed at him.  
  
He looked at me, face blank, save for a tiny grimace. "You aren't up to dancing with men, Damslae."  
  
"How would you know what I'm ready for?" I shot at him.  
  
He laughed grimly at that. "I'm not blind. I saw you when you're around men. I saw the state you were in when you first came here."  
  
Well, at least it meant he had been watching.  
  
Still, I glared at him. "What right do you have to interfere with my business! And calling me your betrothed?! What was with that?"  
  
"We'll be leaving tomorrow," said he. "If I hadn't given that reason, the villagers would have come up with it eventually."  
  
I groaned, letting myself sink to the mossy earth, and leaned against a tree, staring into the branches.  
  
"Is the idea so unpleasant?" Aiven asked with a tiny, ironic smile.  
  
"What about Chayette?" I said abruptly. "Aren't you going to marry her?"  
  
He shook his head, and opened his mouth to respond. But as if speaking her name summoned her, Chayette broke through the trees.  
  
"Is it true?" she demanded of Aiven, with a tear streaked face. "You're not going to marry her, are you?"  
  
Aiven looked uncomfortable, and with good reason, I just sat smiling against the tree, ready for him to work this out.  
  
"Aye, it's true, Chayette. But Chayette," and he lifted a hand, as if to silence her noisy sobs, and indeed she quieted, "you knew we would never marry."  
  
"But I love you!" she wailed, and I rolled my eyes. "And you me! We pledged ourselves beneath the Guardian star eight months ago. You can't mean to break our pledge! Not for her!" She shot me a disgusted look, but I just shook my head.  
  
"Chayette," Aiven said, taking her arm, "Let's go speak somewhere quiet." He led her off, and the last I heard of them was Chayette's noisy tears.  
  
I sighed and stood, shaking out my white skirt. My life was as confusing as it got. I wandered back into the festival, gaining glances wherever I went for my unusual looks. Whenever a man came near I shied off, and when two of them (on separate occasions) pressed their suits, I quickly explained about being betrothed to Aiven.  
  
The bells tolled once, twice, thrice and the crowds started t drift from the dance grounds, shops and food to the square in front of the church. I met up with Kiyra and the family - except for Aiven. Kiyra looked at me with such a wide grin I knew she'd heard. "Wasn't my fault,' I whispered to her as we sat on the rough benches brought for the outside service. "Blame it all on your brother."  
  
Kiyra laughed softly. "I wonder how Chayette took it." She grinned at me. "I wonder how you took it."  
  
I blushed, then opened my mouth to ask exactly who Chayette was. But the priestess began to speak at that point, and everyone shut up to listen.  
  
"Today is the day the Lady defied her father, thousands of years ago. He had created this world, and when he did the fairies and elves, ogres and trolls, centers and unicorns, gnomes and dragons, were born. But he became angered with them, as they had broken away from his teachings. He tried to destroy this place, in his rage, sweeping it with his mighty gaze and causing the world to alight in flame, save for the few places protected by his only child, the Lady. She saved three places, the holiest in the world - the mountaintop of Mt. Havoni, the ancient city of Canaion, in Bast, and helping the fairies, the fairies ancient homeland.  
  
"In doing do, the Lady earned her fathers disapproval and anger. He forbade her never again to walk the now barren lands of earth, and to consort with the fairy folk, now made immortal through the flames of the Lady's father. She disobeyed him, and on this day she went to earth, walking the lands. And where she walked grass spread and grew outward. When she cried, the oceans were remade, and the mountains grew where she lay down to rest. In her footsteps a trail of roses grew, the first of their kind. Their beauty represented the beauty of life, and the thorns were the hardships and difficulties. And with the roses, a new people were created; the Humans, mortal and without the powers of Fairies, but the chosen people of the Lady.  
  
"Her father cast her out, making her mortal as she defied him so. But the fairies rebelled, and a great war began. The Cataclysm. But the lady and immortal Fairies prevailed, defeating the Lady's father, who then was made to leave this world. And the Lady was praised as savoir. But as her father had now made her, she was mortal. And so she lived, and fell in love with a Fairy, prince of his realm. But she aged and died while he did not, in despair, he took one of her roses and climbed to the top of Mt. Havoni, and swore to the heavens that he would gladly have his immorality ended if he was to see his beloved again.  
  
"But instead of death, the Lady rose from the campfire he had made. At first he thought her a vision, as she was a young and beautiful as when they had first met. But it was she, and she took his hands and led him into the sky where our blessed Lady and Lord made their homes, and have evermore guided our footsteps.  
  
"And so today we celebrate the triumph of the Lady, and the creation of our people. Blessed our we, to have the Lady and Lord watch over us so, and have us ever guided by her hand of fate."  
  
Well, I wasn't sure I really wanted to be guided by fate - I like independence after all. But it was nice to think I was being watched over . . . The Priestess tossed the single ruby red rose into the air, and an eddy of air caught it, spinning it farther then it would normally go. I stared lazily up at it, lulled into a peaceful state of mind after the Priestess' speech. Everyone knew that whoever caught the rose would be blessed by the Lady and Lord for the year, and have a life full of excitement.  
  
I wasn't even that surprised when the rose fell into my lap. 


	5. The Begining of the Journey

Walking away from that farmstead was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.  
  
I don't mean that physically, of course. But leaving behind that place - well, it had been a haven for me. For the past two weeks, even if I hadn't felt like I belonged, I felt safe. Cared for. It wasn't that I hadn't been safe before; granted, the city streets aren't exactly secure - and I had belonged there - but no one outside my small group had really cared about me.  
  
Well, I guess that's not true. The prince cared about me. As a possession.  
Kiyra and her family cared about me. They were sorry to see us leave - not just Aiven, but me as well. I don't mean to sound sentimental, but it mattered to me that they cared.  
  
After hugging Kiyra one last time, tousling the baby's hair, and smiling at the men, I joined Aiven where he stood with his pack. I shouldered my own, and we began to walk. This wasn't a "and she walked off, and didn't look back." I looked back repeatedly, waving and smiling. But finally they were no more then dots on the horizon, and faded into the land.  
  
I turned to Aiven at the point I could see his family any more, an opened my mouth to ask one of my millions of questions. But as I looked at him, I found I couldn't. He looked so serious and sad, I just couldn't interrupt him.  
  
Well, that lasted about five seconds. "I noticed Chayette did not bid you goodbye," I mentioned as casually as I could, eyes on the road.  
  
"She did not," he said coolly.  
  
I waited a minute, but he volunteered nothing more. "Well?" I asked. "Why not?"  
  
He glanced at me. "Why do you care?"  
  
"Well, *maybe* it would be nice to talk about something to pass the time," I said sarcastically.  
  
"We needn't talk about Chayette," he said.  
  
"Well then, let's talk about how you pretended we were betrothed. Or is that another topic you wish to avoid?" I glared at him, annoyed at his calmness.  
  
"I already explained, Damslae." It still felt odd, to be called by that name. "I did it to protect you."  
  
"To protect me," I muttered. "I didn't need any protection."  
  
One side of his mouth turned up. "Oh? You had turned to jelly. You looked like you were going to cry."  
  
"I did not!" I shot at him. Didn't he get angry?  
  
"You are yet uncomfortable in a man's presence. You are not ready to be that close to one; you are still afraid."  
  
"I'm not afraid of *you*. So what does that mean?" As soon as I said it, I was instantly ashamed. I'd been childish, trying so hard to get a rise out of him. I lifted my hand to my mouth and stopped in my tracks, feeling my face burn. But that made me just as angry as I'd been - and still was - ashamed. I'd insulted men worse and more directly then that; why did I care what I'd said to Aiven? But I did.  
  
Have I ever mentioned that I hate emotion?  
  
At the same time that I stopped moving, Aiven did as well. He turned to me, face dark for a first, and raised his hand as if to slap me. Indeed, I thought he would. I winced, turning my head away slightly, eyes squeezed shut as I anticipated the blow. I felt my long red braid fall back over my shoulder, leaving my face and next bare. My heart beat faster, and a lump formed in the back of my throat. And I had been comfortable with Aiven.  
  
A long moment passed, and then another, before I had the courage to crack open an eye, staring warily at the youth. But his hand was no longer raised, and his eyes were so full of empathy that it caused my to start in surprise. He turned away briskly, and began walking again, and I followed. He obviously wanted to say something, but did not know what - or how. I couldn't tell if he wished to apologize or not, or even felt that he should. Perhaps, I thought to myself, that I should apologize first. After all, I had started it.  
  
I imagine it is to no one's surprise that I did not.  
  
We walked on - and on - and on. And just for fun, we walked some more.  
  
"So," I said tentatively, determined to start anew. After all, this was me, Laeliena, who could charm any man in the capital with a smile. Who the prince himself wanted, not as a mistress, but to marry. I, who was an accomplished thief, respected, even feared to a small degree. Surely I could handle one simple farm boy. "You are traveling to Bast."  
  
"Aye," he said.  
  
"Um . . . are you . . . uh . . . meeting anyone there?"  
  
"Anyone . . .?"  
  
He certainly wasn't making this easy. "Are you to be apprenticed there? Or are you meeting with a friend? Or . . . your betrothed?"  
  
"I am not betrothed."  
  
I was genuinely startled. "But you told Chayette you could not marry her! I assumed there was a reason - other then me, of course."  
  
He smiled. Or smirked - I wasn't quite sure. "Of course. Has it ever occurred to you Damslae, that I don't *like* Chayette?"  
  
No. "Yes, but it seemed that you had promised each other, under the star, and she obviously was - is - in love with you . . . " Even to myself I could tell I sounded like an idiot, and I was furious with myself. I took a deep breath, then stated, as calm as I could, "So you are not meeting a lover in Bast."  
  
"A lover is not the same as one's betrothed." At my sharp look, he grinned. "But I am not meeting either."  
  
"Are you to be apprenticed?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then - are you meeting a friend there?"  
  
"Not exactly a friend."  
  
"An acquaintance."  
  
"Yes."  
  
This was not getting me anywhere. I did not particularly care why Aiven was going to Bast, but I wanted a conversation. Watching the grass as we strolled along in the hilly landscape was not my favorite pastime.  
  
"What is that?" Aiven said abruptly.  
  
"What?" I asked, then realized he was looking at my necklace - a new one, which hung down only to my collarbone. I reached up to touch it, then let my hand drop. On a black cord, a pendant hung - a shiny gold colored ball, held in place by four copper dolphins that were attached by the tails at the bottom of the ball and attached by their noses to the cord. It was not extraordinary, nor expensive looking, but I thought it very pretty.  
  
"This? Oh, I got it at the fair." As he continued to stare at it, I added helpfully, "Yesterday. On the Day of Roses."  
  
Aiven stopped to take it in his hand. He could not pull it that close to himself, as the cord was so short, so he was forced to come closer to me. I could've taken the necklace off. I didn't.  
  
"It looks like Madam Dorsi's necklace, given to her by her husband. I have never seen another like it." He wore a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
I shrugged. "Probably was hers," I said, unconcerned. It did not occur to me to be. "I do not know the name of the woman from whom I acquired it." I began to walk again, forcing Aiven to also.  
  
"You *stole* it?" Aiven said, sounding shocked, his expression now disapproving.  
  
"But of course I said," I said, smiling innocently at him. "Why would I buy something when I could just take it?"  
  
"Aiven, I'm a thief. What did you expect me to do?"  
  
"But it's wrong, Damslae. Many people can't afford to have their things taken from them."  
  
"I try not to steal from those people."  
  
"And if you do?"  
  
"Well sucks to be them, now, doesn't it?" I said with an amused laugh. "Really Aiven. Stealing isn't that bad. I just do it to protect myself."  
  
"Doesn't seemed to have helped, does it?" he said, glaring at me.  
  
"Aiven!" It was my turn to my shocked, and hurt.  
  
We both glared at each other, not seeming to realize we had stopped again. Aiven was the first to break my gaze - I like to think my golden eyes unnerved him - and we both continued. "At this rate we'll never get anywhere," he said tightly.  
  
Each of us was angry with each other, and if the other had spoken we would not have listened. We eventually stopped for dinner and to camp, eating from our packs. I ate little, in part because I was portioning the food, but mostly because what Aiven had said had really hurt me. And he was right. I hadn't been able to protect myself when it really counted.  
  
We slept on the grass with only our cloaks covering us and our bundles passing as pillows. I was grateful for the warm summer night; though I slept all seasons without any extra warmth other then the season, I was usually shielded by a wall in a narrow ally way, so the wind would pass right over me. Also, I was usually with a group of three others - all whom I trusted with my life.  
  
There was Johen, who was quite the ladies man besides being a thief. His affairs were always short and carefree. Tari was my best friend, a part elven girl with nothing but their startling green eyes to show what blood ran through her. I had no knowledge what had happened to her. Dein was her brother, younger by a year, but tough as steel. Their parents had been farmers that had died in a bandit raid.  
  
Now the only one here was Aiven, sleeping oh so properly about six feet away. I made a face at his back. Immature, true, but so what? He would never know.  
  
When the sun rose, so did I, but Aiven had before. He sat holding a piece of wood, whittling away at it with a small knife, half of a delicate horse appearing from it. Who knew? I stretched slowly and stood also, pretending not to give him a second glance as I stood. I saw him grimace; whether because of his work of because of me I could not know.  
  
"Good morning," I said, prepared to be gracious after getting such a sound night of sleep. I pulled out a tart for breakfast and looked towards Aiven. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
He nodded, and without another word was up and walking towards and along the road, leaving me to scramble after him.  
  
"We did not have a sentry," I commented. I did not truly believe we had needed one, as there seemed to be no one else traveling, but surely there would be as we traveled into the center of the kingdom. As it was, we were at the edge of Shayl, Aiven's homeland, traveling towards the center of it, and through there to the realm of Bast. In the opposite direction of Yvonhe.  
  
"No," Aiven agreed. Well, he certainly couldn't disagree. What could he say? 'Yes, actually, we *did* have a sentry even though both of us were sound asleep,'? "We will not need one until this road joins one of the larger ones closer to the center of Shayl. We will join another travelling party then, so we will lose less sleep.  
  
Oh. But if we joined another party, would we separate? Would he still hold himself responsible for me? I knew he wouldn't want to - after all, he obviously disliked me besides protecting me. Or, pointing out that I couldn't protect myself.  
  
We spent the day silently, talking to each other only when we had to - which was basically never. I was tempted to take my necklace off; but I immediately grew angry with myself for changing anything about myself for a boy. Especially one that didn't even like me.  
  
Even if it would be a change for the - morally - better.  
  
We ate breakfast while walking, we ate lunch while walking, the sun disappeared as we were walking. I half expected to sleep while we were walking. As we set up "camp" - that is, curled down beside the road in our cloaks - I felt like I was pudding. I felt I could not walk another mile. However, being myself, I did not mention this at all to Aiven, instead just going to sleep.  
  
When I woke I lay in bed several minutes, faking the appearance of sleep. I cautiously opened my eyes, and as I expected, Aiven sat nearby, whittling away on his horse. It was almost done by now - a tiny, perfect thing, mane spilling over on each side as it leaned down, as if to drink from a stream. Three of its hooves were flat on the ground, it's tail swishing in the air as if to ward off flies. The last leg was not done yet; this is what Aiven concentrated on.  
  
After a few more minutes of peace, I rolled over and got up. Aiven was not surprised; for all I knew he knew I was awake. I just ate my tart and we left. Silently.  
  
I was sick of being silent, but did not want to be the one to break it. I will not say anything like "the air was so thick I could cut it with a knife," or "the air was fraught with tension." But that was the truth.  
  
A week passed in this manner before our tiny road wound it's way out of the hills and through a small forest, them deposited us into the main stream - a road much wider then our own, and there were people. Not many, as it was only a tiny portion of the road, but if you looked one way down it, and then the other, you could tell you would never be alone.  
  
"Well," I said briskly, stepping off the path. "I, for one, will be glad not to be surrounded by silence anymore." I shot a pointed look towards my companion, which he ignored.  
  
"We have to find a party to travel with," he said, scanning the road. Only then did I realize that no one was traveling in groups smaller then six. In fact, one group coming closer to us, still a while behind us, looked to be about twenty people.  
  
"Then find one," I told him.  
  
" 'We' indicates more then one person. So we'll both go talk. Unless," he said with raised eyebrows, " you're an anthropophobic?"  
  
I looked at him. For a farm boy, he sure knew big words. "No," I said, in tones of derision, flipping my braid back over my shoulder. An anthro what?  
  
"Good," he said, grabbing my hand as I attempted to walk forward. "We'll wait here til a likely looking family comes along." He faced me as he said that, down the road in the direction we were headed down. Unlike me, he could not tell that the caravan of around twenty had reached us. The three in the lead were on horseback - a man, woman, and a youth the age of Aiven and I.  
  
"God be praised," said the lord - for a lord he must be, with such horses and clothes, and revenue. Aiven spun around, as if he recognized the voice. He glanced quickly at me, not releasing my hand. He seemed ill at ease, as the lord, lady, and youth stared at him in a mixture of recognition and awe.  
  
" 'Tis the seer!" said the lord, staring at Aiven. 


	6. The Seer

A/N: First, I wanna thank everyone for all the reviews. I love them! (Does it seem to anyone besides me that the writers in the EE category are very rich in reviews? I mean, in a lot of the other sections people will have like sixteen chapters and eleven reviews, of seventy chapters and forty reviews. Not everyone in EE has a ton of reviews, but a lot do . . .) Well, now that I'm done with my little tangent, I want to mention a one word mistake in my last chapter. Yeah, it was tiny, but it's really been bugging me. So indulge me. Please? *makes puppy eyes* When I wrote "A long moment passed, and then another, before I had the courage to crack open an eye, staring warily at the youth. But his hand was no longer raised, and his eyes were so full of antipathy that it caused my to start in surprise," I meant to write EMPATHY instead of ANTIPTHY. I've gone and changed it now, but it used to say that and it was supposed to say empathy. Okay, now that I got that out of my system, I'm happy. Or maybe that's just the result of the chocolate I'm eating.  
  
"The seer," I echoed, staring at Aiven, then the lord. You have got to be kidding, I thought to myself as I returned my astonished gaze to my companion. He caught my eyes squarely and held it, seeming only the tiniest bit embarrassed. I closed my mouth firmly, sure I must be gaping like an idiot. "Well," I said flicking my red hair over my shoulder, smoothly covering my awkwardness, "that's a new one."  
  
"Do introduce us to your companion, Lord Seer," the lady said, looking at me curiously.  
  
"Damslae of Yvonhe - Cyri, to be exact," he said, as I had admitted being from the capital. Then he turned to me. "And these are Lord Koilun, Lady Jainalii and their son Lord Kieran of Jorins."  
  
What was I supposed to do? I would have *liked* to turn around and rage at Aiven, but the three on horseback and the rest of their train were looking on. Instead, I ground my teeth, smiled, and curtsied low. The nobles smiled and nodded at me, the youth looking at me with undisguised lust. Then and there, I decided I was going to stay as far from him as possible.  
  
"Lord Seer," the lord said then looked at me, obviously unsure how to address me. "Lady Damslae," he said quickly, and neither Aiven nor I protested. After all, I could have been queen. "Where are you journeying?"  
  
"To Bast, my good lord," Aiven replied. "I see you are also traveling in that direction as of this day."  
  
"Indeed," Lord Koilun said. "We travel to our country's capital; surely you will travel with us so far?"  
  
"With delight," was Aiven's response. "Perhaps you have a wagon you could spare for my lady and I?" He did not even look at me, and I kept a bland face. Inside, however, I was fuming. How dare he call me his lady? He had completely ignored me in the first two weeks I'd known him, and then all we'd done was argue!  
  
"But of course," Lord Koilun said, signaling to a servant. We followed the boy, who led us to a wagon. Wagons as guest rooms - there was a new concept for me. The wagon was one room, obviously meant for a couple. I opened my mouth to speak - damn that servant, anyway - but before I could Aiven had taken my bag and put it on the bed with his own, and he had exited the wagon.  
  
Deep breath, I told myself. Take a deep breath and follow. I caught up with him striding to meet a youth slightly older then me, holding the reins of two horses. I blanched.  
  
"Lord Seer," I said in a bland, pleasant voice, smile plastered on my face, "I do not know how to ride." I kept my voice low, so do one could make out my words.  
  
"Oh well," Aiven responded in the same bland voice, a smile the mirror image of my own on his face. "As long as you don't fall off and embarrass me, I can deal.'  
  
"And if I can't?" We took the reins.  
  
Aiven's eyes darted both ways, noting the approach of the nobles. He leaned forward, brushing his hand tenderly over my hair. "That's to damn bad," he murmured through his smiling mouth.  
  
The nobles reached us atop their horses, and Aiven smoothly mounted his, tossing one leg over the horses back. Another servant came to help me mount. As he knelt so I could put my foot in his hands, I shivered. I'd rather never touch a man again. I looked up, and my gaze was predictably caught by Aiven's. Straightening my back and lifting my chin, I mounted - not at all easy to straddle a horse wearing a skirt, and the saddle wasn't sidesaddle. I envied the noble lady and her divided skirt.  
  
Our horses rode at the front of the line. I would rather have stayed further from view, but Aiven position his horse between mine and everyone elses, whisphering hints whenever he could. Seer indeed! I was still seething over the fact that he had not told me.  
  
The ride was boring - the nobles and Aiven chatted about random things and random places that I really couldn't care less about. I also discovered that riding for almost a full day is not a pleasant experience. My thoughts at the end of the day's ride were something along these lines: When are we going to stop for the night? Ouch! Do we really sleep in wagons? Damn bump-in-the-rode. Ouch! Oh, god there's another. What's for dinner? I'm really hungry. Ow! I hope *Aiven's* in pain. I really want pasta right now. I mean, I really, *really* want pasta right now. Stupid - ow! - horse. It's like it wants to hurt me. I wonder if we'll be traveling with these nobles much longer. I hate the way the young lord keeps looking at me. God, why do these stupid skirts have to keep hitching up? They are definitely not meant to be ridden in. *Ouch!*  
  
My thought kept skipping randomly, and I was quite bored and exhausted - not to mention sore - by the time town lights came into view. I sat straighter then, concentrating on the bobbing lanterns and steady street lights. As we got closer, I pondered on the fact that even though we'd probably be staying in town, we still had our own wagons. I gave up the thought as we entered the town.  
  
"You!" Lord Koilun said, nodding towards a young couple who stood hand in hand. They looked up startled, then at each other as if to assure themselves the lord was talking to them. He nodded regally at them, and said, "What is the name of the best inn this town hosts? And where is it, pray tell?" I resisted rolling my eyes. I hate "pray tell's" and whatnot.  
  
The young man looked to startled to say anything; it was the girl that spoke. "That would be "The Captain's Light, your lordships. Your ladyships." This time I resisted the urge to laugh. First, I was no ladyship. Nor was the name "Captain's Light," appropriate - there was no ocean for many miles.  
  
The girl gave directions, and I let my horse keep pace with the others. We were in a well off town, if a little sleepy; not many were wandering the streets at this hour, but many lanterns burned cheerily away. I gave my attention to staying atop my horse. As we reached the stables, I slid off my horse, barely even noticing that a stranger helped me down. In fact, I even smiled sleepily at him as I turned to follow the nobles. As I turned, I found Aiven's angry eyes burning into me. For what? I wondered. Because, for once, I had not been terrified when a man touched me? I scowled at him, and we continued onward.  
  
Dinner was an enjoyable affair - even if there was no pasta, to my deep regret. It was chicken and fresh salad, along with a hearty soup and crusty rolls with a soft interior. Much better then the portions Aiven and I had been eating for the past two weeks.  
  
Lord Koilun had reserved three rooms for the five of us. It was not till after dinner that I realized how this arrangement was supposed to work out, as we sat around our table, socializing. (Which, in this particular case, meant people sitting around practicing the art of talking about nothing with smiles on their faces.)  
  
At first I had - foolishly, I'll admit - thought that the lord and lady would share one room, the two youths would take the second room, and I would sleep in the last one. Hah.  
  
"My lady wife and I will now leave you young ones to your own devices. Till the morrow, my lord seer." How polite of them to say goodnight to their son and myself, I thought sarcastically as the two adults left.  
  
A half-hour later Kieran rose also, bowing to Aiven and me. The two of us also stood - simultaneously, to my disgust. Aiven and Kieran also bowed - Lord Kieran a little lower then Aiven I noted. My eyes narrowed. So Aiven was ranked higher. To bad I didn't know how high Lord Kieran was ranked.  
  
"Till the morrow, Lord Seer, Lady Damslae." Aiven - always the gentleman, of course - not - echoed the lord's words. I curtsied uncertainly, unused to court etiquette. Kieran took my hand and helped me rise. Not that I needed help. I gave him a blasé smile as he raised my hand to his lips. I could feel Aiven's gaze on us, and I kept myself from pulling away. I had thought I might be getting better, but it was worse with Lord Kieran - he seemed too predatory to me.  
  
"Till the morrow," I told him flirtatiously determined to get over what was - as I kept telling myself - a ridiculous fear. I even fluttered my eyelashes a little, and a wide smile was given to me. As he lowered my hand I let it rest against his for an extra second. He smiled smugly at Aiven and turned to leave. Then I realized that as I had been given the same wagon as Aiven, we were to share the same room. I turned to look at him, eyes wide, too wide him glaring at me with the considerable force of him brown gaze.  
  
"What?" I asked defensively, as I followed him out of the dining room, up the stairs, and down a hall to a room. Our room.  
  
"What the hell were you thinking, Damslae?" he demanded of me, closing the door with a bang.  
  
"You should know," I said peevishly. "*You're* the seer. What were *you* thinking? Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"It wasn't important," he said arrogantly.  
  
"It wasn't, was it?" I said angrily. "It certainly seems important. I can't believe you didn't tell me!" I shouted.  
  
"You think *I* left out important things?"  
  
"Well, *I* never left out things as important as being a seer. A seer!"  
  
"You left out," and his voice was soft and dead, "that you could have been Queen of Yvonhe."  
  
I turned white. "Damn you!" I swore at him, "How do you know that? I thought seers only knew the future!" Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes.  
  
"It doesn't matter how! You should have told me. It's not the sort of thing you should leave out!" His voice was as loud as mine.  
  
"It's none of your business!" I screeched.  
  
"It's *all* my business, and you'll do well to remember that!"  
  
"I hate you!" I yelled, swiping at my eyes. "I hate you I hate you I hate you!"  
  
I spun around and marched towards the door, shoulders quivering. As I reached out to yank the door open, it opened by itself, and a maid peeked in. I saw her note my tears and clenched fists, then go behind me to Aiven's stormy face. She let out a sigh of relief. "Oh good," she said to someone behind her, "It's a lovers quarrel, nothing more."  
  
I felt myself stiffen in shock, and the door opened. Two burly men stood there, looking like they were ready to throw us out. But they relaxed at the maid's words. "Good," one of them said. Then he addressed the two of us, with a deep bow. "My lord, my lady, please excuse us for the inconvenience. We only interrupted as we thought there might have been a problem." With another bow from the men, and a curtsey from the maid, the three of them were gone.  
  
They weren't going to yell at us? They weren't going to scold us, or reprimand us, or even give a gentle suggestion to be quiet? How important *was* Aiven?  
  
And it was not a lover's quarrel!  
  
I turned and glared at Aiven, tears still in by eyes, some tracking pathways down my cheeks.  
  
"Well," he said.  
  
"Well," I said.  
  
We continued to stare at each other, and I half expected something to explode. It was him that looked away first, turning his attention to the bed.  
  
Notice that was singular form; bed, not beds, as it should be.  
  
I was tempted to say "well," again, but did not. Instead, I defiantly walked over to the bed. I sat down and bounced a few times as if testing it. Then I lay down, straight down the middle. After a second, I raised my head. "Where are you going to sleep?" I asked, as if the question had just occurred to me. We both knew it hadn't.  
  
I expected him to argue; maybe I even wanted it. Instead, he just locked his gaze on my mine and walked over to a loveseat four feet from the bed - didn't trip over anything, either. He lay down, fully clothed, and turned his body away from mine, towards the back of the loveseat. I didn't move either, except to pull the covers over me. Right before I drifted off to sleep, I muttered, "It wasn't a lover's quarrel."  
  
He seemed to sigh, and whisper, "No," in a rather wistful tone. "And it never can be."  
  
But then again, maybe he didn't say that. One never can trust what they hear on the verge of sleep. 


	7. Reaching the Capital

Thank you, everyone, so much for all the reviews! I love them. And, um, *shifts weight from foot to foot* I wrote half the last chapter, then when away, then wrote the rest a few days later without rereading it. So I manage to contradict myself - first I say that Laeliena can't ride for beans, then I say she's practically an expert. My bad. I've decided that she DIDN'T know how to ride horses that well, so please forgive my li'l mistake. And I'm sorry about doing *this.* I wouldn't but I don't know how to make italics work on Microsoft Word. I mean, I DO, but it doesn't stay when I upload it. Does anyone know how to fix that?  
  
Oh, and it's my birthday tomorrow (June 10th)! I'll be fourteen. So as a birthday/belated birthday present, don't you think you should give me some reviews? (If the answer's no, please don't tell me because I'm afraid I burst into helpless, uncontrollable tears and go running from my computer.)  
  
Or not.  
  
* *  
*  
  
I rose late, to find the couch empty already. After brushing the sleep from my eyes, my gaze was caught by a velvet dress. I stumbled from the bed over to the couch it was draped over, and picked it up, running my hands over it. It was a dark crimson that complimented my hair. The waist was high, gathered with a gold cord that matched the gold embroidery on the hem and square neck. Underneath the dress was a pair of gold slippers.  
  
"Like I'll be able to ride in those," I said, frowning to myself. I smoothed my hand over the smooth fabric, then lifted my head. "Aiven?" I called out. There was no response.  
  
With a sigh, I moved to the bathing chamber. I quickly bathed and dressed in the clothes obviously left for me. As I piled my wet red hair on the top of my head, I thought over last night. What else did he know, besides my chance to be queen? Could he pluck thoughts from my head? Was that even possible for seers? I shook my head to clear it, but that did not work. What did he know? Did he know my name?  
  
"Damslae?" a voice said, and I jumped from my perch on the bed, spinning around. Aiven, dressed as a courtier - which he might well be - but then what was he on a farm? Was Kiyra a noble? Or was Aiven only noble because of his powers? What were his powers? What did he know about me?  
  
It all circled back to that, I thought, sighing and gaining a puzzled look from Aiven. "Damslae, you're awake," he told me, as if I didn't know. "Come down - breakfast is to be served." He turned, making as if to leave.  
  
"Wait," I said, and he turned back to me. "Last night -" I hesitated. How to start? "You could tell things from my mind. What had happened in the past? How - how does that work? Can you read my mind? Know everything about me?"  
  
"I don't!" he said, exasperated. "I'm only a seer -"  
  
"Only," I scoffed.  
  
"Damslae! I didn't read your mind. That's impossible for me - "  
  
"Sure," I said sarcastically. "Then how'd you get that bit of information?"  
  
He rolled his eyes, then stepped across the threshold and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the room so quickly that I barely saved myself from falling flat on my face. "It was from before you came," he said with exaggerated patience, "I knew that a - girl - one who was - that had had the choice to be queen of Yvonhe would come."  
  
"How?" I said, interested in spite of myself as we descended the stairs, and Aiven turned his tight hold into a gentleman holding his arm out. I rested my hand gently on his. "How did you know this? And why did you stumble when explaining what you knew? You left something out - what you mentioned at the farmhouse, about the Eternal Lah'nayin."  
  
"I did," Aiven said, and said no more as we entered the dining room set aside for our party. The nobles were already there, and the two men rose. Aiven held out my chair at the round table, and I sat between him and Lady Jainalii. She smiled at me - she gave off a friendly air, and was still very pretty for a middle-aged woman.  
  
"Good morning, Lady Damslae," she greeted me. "Good morning, Lord Seer," and she bobbed her head. Aiven bowed to her, oh so gentlemanly, and kissed her hand and greeted her. Then he and the two men bowed and greeted each other, and the lords greeted me. I was very tempted to just stand and shout hello to everyone and just get on with breakfast.  
  
Hah. Like I could get away with that.  
  
Breakfast was served by a pretty maid a little younger then me, who batted her eyes furiously at Aiven and Lord Kieran throughout the meal. I don't thing they even noticed. By the end of our four course breakfast - and this was just a random inn! - the girl looked ready to throw herself on the table to be noticed.  
  
"The maid seemed to have something in her eyes," Lady Jainalii said, sounding quite amused. I laughed.  
  
The three men looked at us in bewilderment, obviously not caring. "Oh?" Aiven said, but he plainly didn't really understand.  
  
"I must say the lass did," I added, looking at the lady's sparkling eyes.  
  
"Well, I - I hope she got it out," Lord Koilun said, clearly confused at why we were talking about a serving wench. He switched the topic briskly. "My Lord Seer, perhaps you would honor me by conversing about your destination?"  
  
"Indeed, my lord," Aiven readily agreed. He stood, as did Lord Koilun. Koilun nodded to his son who bowed in return, and kissed the hands of his lady wife and me; then Aiven and Kieran bowed to each other (though Kieran bowed deeper) and the seer kissed my hand and Lady Jainalii's.  
  
My poor hand. If I had to hold it out once more, it would surely fall off.  
  
The two men exited, Lord Kieran was fuming that he had been excluded from the meeting, treated more like a child then a man. He glared at me as if this was all my fault, and his mother glared at him. Ignoring her vexed son, she turned to me and began a conversation about the latest fashions.  
  
Now, I will not pretend I have fun chatting with middle aged noblewomen. I will not pretend I know the slightest thing about fashion in a foreign country. I will not pretend I know the slightest thing about noble's fashion. I didn't have TIME for fashion - my schedule consisted of thieving, fighting, eating, sleeping, and making sure I didn't die while doing any of the afore mentioned. No time for a frivolous thing like fashion in there.  
  
But as Lady Jainalii was willing to uphold the entire conversation by herself, I could handle it. All I had to do was nod and smile, and make the occasional bland comment.  
  
So I was having a splendid time - well apart from the fact that who really needs to know the difference between crepeback satin, antique satin, duchesse satin, and slipper satin? Seriously. It's SATIN, for God's sake.  
  
Other then that, I was having an absolutely splendid time. After the satin, I got to hear about pashmina. What in the seven hells was pashmina? And why did I need to know about it? "My cousin - Lady Amleane - recently received a dress made out of it. It comes from the soft undercoat of mountain coats, and is soft as a cloud. Absolutely delightful! Of course, it is horribly expensive . . ."  
  
I was about ready to nod off as the lady started to talk about velvet. Cut velvet, chrushed velvet, panné velvet. Spare me, please, I prayed. I had never so much as touched velvet (except when my hand brushed a nobles clothes as I pickpocketed them) before today. I had not the slightest idea what she was going on about. I had never imagined the lady could be so much of a talker. She had certainly seemed much quieter beforehand.  
  
Before Lady Jainalii could give me an in depth description of how velvet was a warp-pile fabric, which meant something about one set of filling yarns and two sets of warp yarns, we were interrupted by a man wearing the inn's uniform. He bowed deeply to the three of us and I was saved from learning about the two sets of warp yarns.  
  
"My lady, your husband wishes to speak with you alone."  
  
I looked at her sharply, giving her more attention now then I had in the past hour of fabric speech.  
  
She hesitated. "Alone?" She looked at us. It would obviously be immoral for a young lady and a young lord to be alone unchaperoned.  
  
This is, of course, forgetting that I AM supposed to be sleeping with another lord. It was still improper. One also had to forget that it happens all the time anyway.  
  
"If I am to be speaking alone with my husband, will the young lord be coming back here?" Interesting. She addressed Aiven as "the young lord," when before he had always been called, "Lord Seer." Were they keeping it a secret from the commoners? Why? I shook my head.  
  
"My apologies, my lady, but I have not been informed on that subject."  
  
With a sight and a glance at the two of us teens, Lady Jainalii rose, muttering something under her breath. The door swung shut, loud in the silence, as the door closed behind her and the serving man.  
  
"Lady Damslae," Lord Kieran smiled charmingly at me. "I've been with you all morning, and we've exchanged nary a word." While that wasn't quite true, it was close enough. "I trust you slept well last night?" The question was innocent enough; the implication in his face wasn't.  
  
"I slept the whole night though," I said loftily.  
  
"You only slept?" He said, one brow raised, a smirk twisting his handsome features.  
  
I stared at him, amazed at his rudeness. I could not keep myself from laughing; after all, if he was trying to be rude he'd have to try harder then that. He did not know that I had grown up in the dark alleys of Cyri.  
  
"No, my lord," I said with a very amused note in my voice, which I made no attempt to hide. "The Lord Seer and I did not have sex last night. After all, we HAVE been riding all day, and I for one was exhausted." I cocked my head. "Were you not, my lord?"  
  
He was shocked. I doubted he had ever heard a lady say "sex" once in his life, and wasn't sure how to handle it. I personally didn't care how he handled it; I was find as long as he kept far away for me - or at least, out of striking range, for if he came closer, he'd end up with several broken bones. I wasn't THAT comfortable with men yet.  
  
"My lady!" he finally exclaimed, swallowing hard.  
  
I smiled insincerely at him. "If you wish to provoke me you will have to try harder then that, m'lord. THIS lady's stomach is stronger think one might think. Good day." With that I whirled (alright, I admit it. I was rather pleased with the way my velvet dress -cut velvet. I think . . . Or was it crushed? - swept out behind me with a soft whooshing noise as I left the room.) I did not even deign to give the noble a curtsy, which made me feel like royalty.  
  
That is, until I turned the corner in the hallway and bashed my high head into Aiven's, and fell down as graceful as a beaver. And beavers aren't graceful.  
  
"Milady!" Aiven cried out swiftly bending down and helping me up while he apologized, as a courtier should. Of course, then he realized it was ME . . .  
  
"Oh - it's you." His apology was as short as that, and then he began to berate me on how stupid it was for me to turn a corner without looking, to rush headlong like that. I sighed. As least Kieran hadn't seen.  
  
Soon enough we had packed and left the inn, off to journey along the road, crowded with people, smells, and noise.  
  
* *  
*  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Four long weeks on this road and we've almost reached the capital. Thank God. I have gotten considerably better at riding that cursed horse (whose name happens to be Dewdrop, of all things) though it still leaves me sore. And what is with sidesaddle? Why do men get all the comfort?  
  
Aiven and I have shared a bed every night, sticking to this silly façade that we are lovers. I always lay stake to the bed, sometimes forcing Aiven to sleep on the floor. Oh well. I can't really understand the nobles treatment of me - they treat me as if I am a fine lady and as if it doesn't matter that I'm sleeping with someone before we're married - Lady, they couldn't possibly think we WERE married, could they? No - they would have made more of a fuss about meeting the oh-so-greet Lord Seer's wife for the first time. Anyway, they act like it's normal that we share a room, and I KNOW nobles don't do that.  
  
Maybe it's different because he's a seer. Oh, I don't know. I'm just a thief. All I know is how to snitch things. Like rings.  
  
It was rather amusing when Aiven found out. I'd been examining a small wooden box - "courtesy" from one of the inns - that I had stored jewelry in.  
  
"What's in there?" Aiven had asked me, and I had airily replied that it was nothing. He obviously didn't believe me (I wonder why?) and he took the box and opened it. I was somewhat delighted to hear a shocked gasp.  
  
"Damslae! This is Lord Kieran's ring! As it this ruby one - and this emerald! And where did you get the other three - and the earrings!"  
  
"Places," I replied in my loftiest voice. "People."  
  
"Damslae," his voice was low, filled with anger, exasperation, and to my surprise, disappointment.  
  
"Well, what did you expect?" I asked, feeling defensive as I settled down on the bed I had taken for my own. "I'm a thief, Aiven, I've always been a thief, I'll always be - "  
  
"No," Aiven interrupted, "You won't." He glared daggers at me. "As of now on, you are a LADY - prim, proper, pretty, and polite."  
  
"Pessimistic, peevish, pathetic, and painful?" I added innocently, and more daggers came flying my way. "I won't change, Aiven, not for you, not for anyone."  
  
"Oh yes you will," he said, and he sounded, at that precise moment, like the seer he was. I only stared at him a moment longer then took the box from his hand and stashed it away in my belongings.  
  
Two weeks have pasted since then, and I have not become any more refined. Well, on the inside. On the outside, I can act the perfect lady - complete with descriptions of just about every know fabric.  
  
* *  
*  
  
"I can't believe you're actually writing in a diary, like one of those silly ladies at court." Aiven's voice was filled with disgust, and I did not bother to explain, again, that as I had nothing else to do, I may as well record everything I do so the future generations will know the difference between cut, crushed, and panné velvet. Hah.  
  
Instead, I pressed for information. "So you've been to court before."  
  
His glance was filled with scorn. "Of course I have. What did you think, I spent all my days as a farm boy?"  
  
"How should I know? It's not like you'll tell me one damn thing about you're life."  
  
"It's not like you need to know," he said disdainfully. Interesting. I'd managed to get disgust, scorn, and disdain, all in one evening.  
  
"And we will get to this court I know and need to know nothing about tomorrow afternoon?" He nodded. "And who will I be introduced as? For that matter, who are YOU? I don't even know the rank a seer commands."  
  
"You'll learn tomorrow."  
  
"Oh, I'll get to learn at court through trial and error? You'll be embarrassed, not I, Aiven. I'll never have to see these people again; you will.  
  
"It doesn't matter," he groaned from where he lay on the floor. At least chivalry was not dead. Not that I'd given him much of a choice about where he slept, but he could have forced the issue. Involuntarily, I shivered.  
  
"Fine. See if I care," I said boldly.  
  
"I'm sure I will," he said, pulling the blanket closer though the night was hot. "Now will you PLEASE just shut up and go to sleep?"  
  
I listened to him, for once, and slept. 


	8. The Palace

A/N I am so, SO sorry! I didn't mean to take two months to get this up, and I promise that I will take a much shorter time next time. Seriously. Anyway, thank everyone for reviewing, and incase any of you like incredibly sappy stories, you should go read my sappy story, "And Then She Met the President's Son," which is the funnest story to write cause it's so cheesy, and it sadly has almost as many reviews as this one, with half the chapters. Thank you! Enjoy! (Oh, I have a random urge to do a disclaimer and copyright.)  
  
Copyright © 2002 by Tessandra  
  
Disclaimer: MWA HA HA! Everything is mine!!!! (Well, except for the prologue . . . and Bast, oh, and the whole Friends of the Fairies idea - but BESIDES that . . .)  
  
The following afternoon saw the five of us in good spirits. I do not know about the rest of our party, as the lady I was playing - whoever that was - kept aloof from the servants. A new feeling, as in my regular life, this type of servant looked down at me with scorn.  
  
I nudged Dewdrop to the right a little, so I rode alongside Aiven. "Aiven," I whispered to him, and we let our horses fall back from the nobles so they did not overhear us. "How long shall we stay at court?"  
  
"A week," he responded immediately. "Then we shall go to Bast."  
  
"We?" I questioned, raising my brows. "Since when is it we?"  
  
"Since it was foretold," he said, quietly and solemnly. When I looked sharply at him, I saw his hazel eyes were glazed over, staring into the netherworld. Or at least, not this place. I swallowed hard, shivering, and decided not to press him. It was mildly disturbing when he went all Seer- ish on me, speaking of the future in that voice that was so certain, so - well - unearthly.  
  
I was silent as we rode the next few miles, thinking on our upcoming destination. The second capital I had ever been in. Hopefully I would leave it in a happier manner then being exiled. "Aiven?" I said to him, and he turned to me. "What is the royal family like?"  
  
"Why do you think I would know?" he asked, eyes wide. "After all, I'm just a youth."  
  
I glared at him. "You are so incredibly not helpful!" I said angrily, but softly. Had I been walking I would have stomped my foot. "What is your rank? These nobles bow to you - what of the rest? I don't even know this family's rank. Dammit, Aiven, I don't know anything!"  
  
"I'm inclined to think so," he said smoothly, a grin on his face. I scowled at him.  
  
"About. Court," I got out from ground teeth. "I know lot's of stuff. Loads."  
  
"Hmmm," he said agreeably, which annoyed me even more.  
  
"I DO! Just because you're so special and have some special rank that can hardly be expected to be known to me since I'm just a thief which means I know absolutely nothing about court life, well, that isn't any reason to - uh -"  
  
"Yes?" Aiven drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Anything you'd like to add to that rant?" I flushed, knowing I had been ranting. Not only had I made no sense whatsoever, but I hadn't had a point either. "And if you do have something to add, please don't, or at least wait until a time when you can be more discreet."  
  
"Fine," I muttered, glaring. I urged my horse up a bit, and soon became involved in a discussion on the types of show fabric with Lady Jainalii. I liked her more then I would have expected. After awhile our conversation drifted to an end, and I let my mind drift off, too.  
  
My thoughts had gone everywhere but the road in front of me, as Dewdrop walked on. Then suddenly our train stopped. I clutched the mare's reins as I raised my head, re-entering the physical world. As I did this, my senses were assaulted.  
  
Sprawled in front of me was Lonyar, capital of Sontái. No wall surrounded it like Cyri was surrounded. Houses and shops, people and animals and carts were everywhere, moving in every direction. Merchants selling their wares, shouting above the crowd, while children's screams of laughter could also be heard. The clatter of hooves on pavement accompanied the many horses, donkeys, and other animals. Music could be heard floating from the street corners, musicians hoping for a coin or two. The dull roar of the crowd was beneath it all, as it had always been and would always be.  
  
And then there were the smells. Those of flowers and rich perfumes were mixed right in with unwashed bodies and piss. The scent of fresh bread wafted by, followed by another foul odor. The grime was clear on the unwashed bodies, excluding the nobles and rich merchants.  
  
A servant ahead of us shouted out for the road to clear, as the peasants grumbled, staggering off the rode and giving us evil looks as we rode by.  
  
I was in my element.  
  
Only it was usually me standing down there, shooting resentful looks as the nobles rode past. I was not adverse to slipping a hand in there pocket when they slowed, so I was glad I was atop a horse rather then in one of the wagons or walking along side it. I felt a bit of nostalgia as I picked out some of the more obvious thieves in the crowd, cutting purse strings left and right. I had done that -  
  
** - "Laeli, catch!" Johen shouted, tossing the pouch to me. I reached out a hand to grab it, the weight surprising me, and the leather bag bulging with coins. Johen laughed as he swung away from the foreign lady in her fine carriage. He caught up with me, dressed in silks like a bed boy, and we dashed away, the howls and shaking fist of the foreigner following us. He grabbed me and kissed me, twirling me in the air as we laughed hysterically. "Now," he said, plucking at his yellow fluffy sleeves, "I ought to get out of these." Fresh gales of laughter followed -**  
  
"'Tis a awe inspiring sight, isn't it?"  
  
Years of practicing being silent kept me from shrieking out as I spun my head around, mouth forming the word "Johen,". . .  
  
Lord Kieran smiled at me from his seat on his traveling gelding; he had assured me that he usually rode a stallion, but not on long trips. Not that that made any sense to me - what use was a horse if you did not ride it? Anyway, my startled eyes met his calm blue hazel ones before they swung away to take in the scene in front of me.  
  
The palace rose up in front of me, a magnificent structure quite unlike the one in it's bordering country. It was large and airy, with stone columns and marble towers. The palace of Sontái had nothing of the fortress feel Yvonhe's castle did.  
  
"It is gorgeous," I said with a smile, meaning it.  
  
"You will only be staying for a week."  
  
"And you will be staying the rest of the autumn season."  
  
He inclined his head. "Lady Chantaviene always holds a ball for the eligible young nobles on the eve of her son's death every year, which is coming up this week. It is a spectacular event."  
  
"Seems rather morbid."  
  
"I suppose. But it is for the memory of her son, and his betrothed. It was very tragic - he died in battle, and the minute she learned of his death she took a dagger to herself."  
  
"That makes it no less morbid."  
  
He shrugged, then turned to catch me eye, riding so close our knees brushed. "M'lady . . . I would be honored if you would come to the ball with me as your escort."  
  
I looked at him, taken aback. 'But what about Aiven?"  
  
"What about him?" Kieran scowled. "The two of you are not to be wed, are you? You barely get along together!"  
  
"I - I will - must talk with the Seer about this - but . . . well, I would be happy to go with you if I could. Can." I smiled my most bedazzling smile, to block the way I'd stumbled all over my words. I was sure I had not answered the way one should when being invited to a ball with a noble, seeing as it had never happened to me. I did not want to go to this ball. I had never learned ballroom dancing - or any other kind of dancing, for that matter. What use was it to a thief? Though I could surely charm my way through half of it with my beauty and gracefulness, I did not relish the chance that I might stumble around like a country bumpkin - which I most assuredly was not.  
  
I did not particularly want to go with Kieran either. And there was no telling how Aiven might act if I did. Of course, it might be fun to go with Kieran just to spite Aiven. I was like that.  
  
"My thanks, Lady Damslae," Kieran said, and urged his horse forward.  
  
"What were you and Kieran talking about?"  
  
I spun around - well, as much as one can on a horse. I was suddenly angry with Aiven for surprising me like that. "What business is it of yours? You're not my keeper!"  
  
"For now I am."  
  
"Gods, - "  
  
"Lord Seer!"  
  
We both spun, to be greeted by half a dozen knights. Their armor glinted brightly in the noonday sun. The foremost knight rode forward. "Lord Koilun. Lady Jainalii." He inclined his head.  
  
"Sir Renain," Lord Koilun greeted him, also nodding slightly.  
  
"As soon as this was done, the knights switched their attention to Aiven - and to me. "My Lord Seer! This is an unexpected delight." He waved a hand of dismissal, and the other knights quickly dispersed, though most lingered in the vicinity, obviously eager to listen.  
  
Aiven inclined his head slightly. "Sir Renain. Indeed, I had not expected to come. How fares your family?" That was a ridiculous question for a seer, I thought. But then, who ever cared about my opinions?  
  
"They are well Lord Seer. I thank you for your concern."  
  
"And your sister? She was wed this last winter. Give her and her new husband my regards."  
  
"Indeed I shall." Then, on an entirely different subject, "Have I the honor to be the first to welcome you - and your lady - back to court?"  
  
"Oh, but it is my honor to be greeted by you. Ah, I have been sadly lacking in manners; this is the lady Damslae. I am her escort to her uncle in Bast; her father has entrusted her to my care."  
  
"Obviously a man of good bearing - after all, who better to entrust their daughter to then yourself?"  
  
"Certainly, who better?"  
  
They had a good laugh at this - I'm sure it was absolutely hysterical. Really. I personally, had no idea why they were laughing like one of them had said the cleverest thing in the world. Somehow I didn't thing they were joking about how Aiven wasn't even close to being the best escort - but I wasn't sure the knight had the wit for that.  
  
Incase it wasn't clear, I'm not exactly fond of nobles.  
  
After men had their laugh, Aiven managed to rid us of our horses ("No!" I screamed, 'I don't want to leave Dewdrop!" causing Aiven to give me a harsh look, an apologetic look to the grooms, and dragging me off, this time with me laughing at the surrounding people's faces. But truly, I was a little sad to leave Dewdrop. Just, not that sad.) and sweep the two of us into he castle without anyone else coming near us.  
  
My first view of the inside of the castle was not spectacular. We were in the servants' hallways, their staircases and passages. Every time we pasted them they wold give Aiven a nod and smile, like they were used to seeing him. Needless to say, this only served to confuse me even more.  
  
Aiven pushed aside a tapestry and stepped into the finest room that I'd ever seen, much finer then what I'd seen of the fortress castle of Yvonhe. Granted, I hadn't seen very much of it, but still.  
  
We were in a sitting room, richly furnished. A gold gilded table sat in the middle of the room, with intricate carvings on it. Suspended above it and in the four corners of the room were small chandeliers, about two feet in diameter. The carpet beneath our feet was deep and of all shades of blue, in an oriental design. The two windows reached from floor to ceiling, and blue curtains framed them. Chairs were scattered about the room - dark green velvet, outlined by tall deep brown wood, whose legs and backs were carved in as much detail as the table.  
  
"A well decorated room," I said, sweeping my eyes from the first of two life-size paintings to he other. One was a hunting scene, while the other was a portrait of Kiyra - younger by several years.  
  
"I had that commissioned when I realized I was going to be spending much of my time here," Aiven said, noticing where my eyes lay. "She's they only one that would sit down long enough for the painter."  
  
'This is your room," I breathed, still trying to take it all in. Certainly the crown could not afford for all of his nobles to have rooms like this.  
  
"No, it's my cousin's," Aiven said sarcastically, breaking the mood. I glared at him, tempted to ignore him as he beckoned for him to follow me to another room. I resisted, and entered an elegant, completely impersonal bedroom.  
  
"This will be you room for the week," Aiven informed me, like I couldn't guess.  
  
"No, really?" I drawled."  
  
"Yes, really," he snapped, eyes flashing. I stepped back, taken aback by his mood. "You'll fine clothes in the wardrobe - chose something nice. We'll be presented to the king at supper." He left.  
  
Presented to the king. I hadn't had a whole lot of good luck with kings, and Aiven probably thought I was going to embarrass him. Well, I wouldn't. I'd look absolutely beautiful, act like an angel, and then go to the ball with Kieran. So there.  
  
It wasn't until I was looking through the dresses that I took time to wonder how there came to be closet full of dress in my size that matched my coloring. My face turned red as I realized Aiven must have ordered them; I'd rather men stay away from what I wore. But they were already here, and my other clothes weren't yet; besides, these were much nicer then any of them.  
  
An hour later I was dressed in a gold silk gown, the lower half slightly puffed, with the hem embroidered with tiny pearls. The bodice was embroidered with pearls as well; a diamond design, with pears at all the points. A square neck, as was the style, was a little below my color bone. The sleeves were round, then narrow to my wrist. I let my flamboyant red hair unbound, except for the top layer that I caught in a bun, held in by a gold threaded net. I put on a pair of gold shoes, that would only be seen when I was climbing stairs. All I needed now, I thought as I considered myself in the mirror, would be some red jewelry. I didn't really need any cosmetics; they would take away from my gold eyes, which were definitely by best feature - that and my hair. I looked like a porcelain doll, I decided. I wasn't sure I liked being trapped in all this silk and lace and jewels, even more then on the trip here.  
  
"Aiven!" I yelled out, sticking my head through the door, trying to make myself heard through the parlor and past the closed door to Aiven's room.  
  
"What?" he hollered back.  
  
"Go to Lady Jainalii and ask her for some red jewelry."  
  
"Ask her yourself."  
  
"I can't! I don't know where our suite is, let alone where their rooms are."  
  
"Ask somebody!"  
  
"Aiven, I'm not going to wander around the palace corridors asking random people where Lady Jainalii's rooms are!" "And I'm not going to go around the palace corridors half naked!"  
  
Oh. That did present a problem.  
  
"Well . . . then do it later."  
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Fine!" I shouted back. I little surprised he had given in so easily.  
  
Sometime later I heard a thunk against my door. After waiting a moment, I got up, opening my door in time to see Aiven's close. In front of me was a bag.  
  
I was, I decided, gorgeous. I had put in two ruby drops, and a gold chain with a ruby suspended from it hung around my neck. Red garnet bracelets were around both my hands - that was all.  
  
"You, " I told myself, "Are a vision. A slightly crazy vision, considering the fact that I'm talking to myself, but a vision none the less."  
  
Rooms, no matter how beautiful, can become extremely boring when you have nothing to do, especially when you're waiting to be introduced to a king. I sat in a chair for several hours, writing about everything that had happened. But soon my hand grew tired, and then my pen ran out of ink, so then I was again left with nothing to do.  
  
"I hope you're ready for dinner," Aiven said, his voice coming from directly across the door.  
  
"What? Now?" I said in a panicky way, sitting relaxed in my chair. "I still half to find a dress - shoot, where did those earrings go?"  
  
"I don't believe it," Aiven said in disbelief, swinging open my door. He stopped suddenly, staring at me. I returned the favor.  
  
Gone was the country boy, or the obnoxious young man that had traveled with me for weeks. In front of me was a mystical lord, dressed as richly as a king. His white robes seemed to twist and blow, though the windows were closed. A silver pendant hung from his neck, a rune unknown to me, lost in time. He wore a circlet on his head, silver like the pendant but with a metallic gleam, sending off all colors of the rainbow. He looked distant, thoughtful, and as far out of reach as a star from the earth. He looked like a prince.  
  
"So, do I pass?" I asked, a little shy of this stranger who stood in my companion's place.  
  
He nodded. "You look nice," he choked out, and he seemed a bit more like Aiven just then.  
  
"You don't look half bad yourself," I returned, which was an understatement.  
  
We left the room, traveling the main hallways of the palace this time. I took his arm, still a little shy, wishing he would make some sarcastic remark, or an insult, or anything I could recognize as him.  
  
"Where is everyone?" I whispered, a little intimidated by the passageways, empty except for us and the occasional servant or guard.  
  
"At dinner," Aiven whispered back.  
  
"Everyone?"  
  
Aiven nodded.  
  
I could tell we were close to the main hall when I began to hear a roar of noise. It was almost deafening by the time Aiven and I reached two tall, golden doors with had a dozen soldiers standing before them. The doors had the crest of Sontái upon them, along with many other designs, and were at least fifteen feet tall. They were closed, but still smells drifted through, and the sound of laughter, booming voices, and the clatter of silverware.  
  
"Lord Seer," one of the soldiers said, a look of awe on their faces. They all bowed low. Apparently everyone knew Aiven. "Are you ready to be announced?"  
  
"We are." Aiven answered, and one of the guards knocked a rapid pattern on the door.  
  
A blare of trumpets startled me as they sounded right in front of us. In the silence that followed, a voice declared, "My lords and ladies! Your Highnesses, Your Majesties! May I present, Lady Damslae of Brientlon, and the lord Seer Aiven Torryien Caunlahsta of Sontái!" A very loud cheer followed, almost drowning out the second blast of trumpets. I swallowed, and made my clutch on Aiven's arm - Aiven Torryien Caunlahsta - relax.  
  
The golden doors swung open. 


	9. A Seer's Rank

The golden doors swung open.  
  
I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. *This* was the largest room I'd ever seen, much larger then the King of Yvonhe's audience chamber, plus it was much more welcoming. Great windows adorned one of the longer walls in the room, and on the other wall tapestries hung twice my height. On the wall opposite us and on our wall shields hung, representing - well, I don't know. I was just the foreigner.  
  
There was a high dais at the very end of the rectangle hall, which supported one table with the king and the rest of the royal family. Pages bustled about the room, colorful in their blue and silver uniforms. They darted between the tall columns that stretched the two stories up to the ceiling, which was painted with angels.  
  
Needless to say, it was a little overbearing.  
  
Added to the sight was the noise. No one was shouting, but the murmuring tones of the entire court built up into a roar of voices and laughter. A blast of smells washed over us, much stronger then I had expected.  
  
But as Aiven was announced the room fell silent. A page could be heard pouring wine into a noble's cup across the room; he quickly stopped. Every fork dropped; every head turned. There were hundreds of people, and I could fell every single eye focused on us. My hand rested on the Seer's arm, and as we slowly walked to the dais our footsteps echoed in the huge room. Suddenly there was a scraping of chairs, a rustling of fabrics. (I could even tell which ones, sadly enough.) The entire court of Sontái curtsied and bowed to us. I tried - and failed - not to give a little gasp as their Royal Majesties stood and nodded deeply to Aiven before resuming their seats at the high table. Two young men stood and bowed with them - probably the twin princes. Aiven gave a small half bow, and I curtsied low, burying my hands in the folds of my dress, hoping to hide their shaking. Every instinct told me that this was unsafe; too many people were watching. I would rather slip through crowds like this unnoticed; I would rather not be here at all.  
  
"Lord Seer," the king said.  
  
"Your Majesty. Your Majesty," Aiven greeted them.  
  
"Lady Damslae of Brientlon. It is an honor to make your acquaintance."  
  
I'm not sure if I gawked at him or not. Was this how the king usually greeted nobles? And did he always sound so sincere? I curtsied again. "Thank you, your Majesty. The pleasure is all mine."  
  
"Please, the king said, waving a hand at the two seats immediately to his right. "Be seated."  
  
I studied the royal couple as Aiven sat at the king's right hand and I sat at the Seer's right. The king of Sontái was not a very impressive looking man, when his features were looked at separately. He had a thick mop of graying brown hair, bushy gray eyebrows over baby blue eyes, which were obviously his best feature. They were not piercing as many ruler's eyes are described to be. Instead they were calm and welcoming, like an anchor in a storm. He was only about 5'5, and was somewhere in his forties, I would assume. He had a potbelly and abnormally large feet. Either that or he stuffed his shoes. He had smile lines along with furrows from worrying. Though his presence was not *commanding,* it was strong. When I looked the whole man over there was an aura of power, of solemn dignity and strength. He was not a man to underestimate.  
  
His queen looked ten years younger then him, and *her* presence was commanding. Tall and thin there was a simple beauty about her. She wore most of her light brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, while the rest tumbled down in light curls to her shoulders. She smiled when she caught me looking at her, and I smiled back.  
  
I surveyed the room, checking all possible escape routes out of habit. I noticed, as I looked at the nobles, that most were sneaking glances at Aiven and me. More then a few looked over at me appreciatively, and some of the young lords sat straighter. I hid a smile.  
  
It wasn't that different at the high table. All occupants spent most of their time glancing up at my end, whispering things to their neighbors and pretending they were more interested with there food then the lord Seer and the lady he had brought. I heard a boy whisper to his companion how beautiful the flame haired girl was. "We've not a chance," his friend replied softly. "Why would such a lovely lady look at us - not only does she have princes sitting across from her, she's with the Seer!" Hiding a smile I turned to see the royal princes of Sontái.  
  
The princes were siting to the left of the king and queen, directly across from Aiven and me. Aiven had told me next to nothing about them, other then that they existed. They looked about eighteen. They had their father's blue eyes and their mother's light brown hair. One dressed in the silver attire of a mage; the other wore the apparel of a knight-heir.  
  
"Lady Damslae," the mage twin across me said as Aiven became engaged in conversation with his parents. The pages below began to serve the nobles; squires served the first course at our table. "It is a delight to be gifted with the view of you this dinner. You are the lord Seer's - companion?" He raised an eyebrow. His brother was also listening in.  
  
I haven't had much luck with the one prince I had known, and perhaps he had prejudiced me against others of his rank. Though I must admit that it did not seem likely either of these twins would want to marry me.  
  
"Actually," I said, taking a sip of the disgustingly sweet wine, "the lord Seer is my escort. To my uncle in Bast." It had been my uncle, hadn't it? Hmm. Maybe it had been my cousin . . . or even my father . . .  
  
"I would be honored to give you a tour of the palace and city," the heir said.  
  
What could I say? "I would be honored if you would, your highness."  
  
The younger twin seemed somewhat annoyed at his brother's invitation. "How long will you be staying here?" he said, smiling charmingly.  
  
"As long as you wish," I replied with a similar smile, long eyelashes fluttering.  
  
The knight-heir leaned towards me. "Then stay here forever," he said, blue eyes dancing.  
  
I sighed dramatically. "If only I could, your Highness. But I am afraid my uncle awaits me in Bast.  
  
"Would be that I could be your escort," the mage-prince said, sipping his red wine.  
  
"Surely I am not worthy of such an honor," I said, with a little laugh. Were the princes really this empty headed and flirtatious? I doubted it. An act, probably, and a good one.  
  
"You are worthy of so much more," said the heir, catching my hand as I reached for my spoon.  
  
I tried to pull it away discreetly and quickly, but knocked our joined hands into a small wooden sugar bowl instead. The bowl started spinning smoothly down the table, somehow managing to stay clear of all obstacles. It overturned a decorative bowl of marbles further down the table, and they spilled onto the floor. The three of us - myself and the twins - watched in horror as the squires entered to bring us the second course.  
  
The first two squires entered brilliant in their blue in silver livery. They had no chance. They slipped, twisting and falling on the rolling marbles, unable to contain a yelp. Most talk at the high table paused as we regarded the falling squires - and the falling platters.  
  
I had no time to watch as a pitcher of red wine flew from the air, directly towards me. I pushed to the side, knocking into the lady to my right. The wine pitcher broke against my plate, splattering Aiven, the younger prince, the unknown lady and myself.  
  
We did not fare the worst. Some of the tables other occupants wee drenched; one had broccoli in her styled hair while her dinner partner wore a pie slices on his chest.  
  
The princes and I exchanged looks. I tried to cover my amusement with dismay, but stopped when I saw the twins' eyes glint with merriment.  
  
It was like a tableau for a moment. Everyone was still, from the squires on the floor with cheeks as red as wine to the nobles at the very end of the hall. A few muffled laughs could be heard, along with gasps of horror. Slowly every eye again focused on Aiven - though I doubted many had left him during the meal.  
  
Aiven rose slowly from his seat, wearing a cold icy look - sort of like when he'd found me whispering instructed to his horse to throw him on the road, and promising an apple. Only worse.  
  
"Your Majesties," he said icily. "I believe I shall retire to my rooms now." He did not need to indicate the red splotches on his pristine robe. The king and queen rose, the princes a second later. Uncertain, I remained seated until Aiven shot me a look that would have made a dead man rise. "Til the morn," he said, inclining his head. Without so much as waiting for them to answer, he swept out of the room, bringing me along with him. Again, everyone sank into a curtsy or bow. The doors swung open in front of us; we had turned a corner before I heard them close.  
  
I dared not say anything. Aiven probably knew it was my fault, and I was still stunned on the fact that he had walked out on royalty in front of their court - and no one had tried to stop him. The implications of that were enormous.  
  
"What are you?" I whispered as he pulled the door shut in his chambers. "What - who are you to be able to act so?" I stared at him, golden eyes wide and my hands clenched behind my back.  
  
"Oh, don't acted so surprised," Aiven said irritably, collapsing in one dark green chair. His face was I little paler today, his brown eyes heavily lidded. "I haven't turned into some terrifying, majestic figure who eats little babies for breakfast."  
  
"No, you always were one," I retorted. "Except I'm not so sure about the majestic part."  
  
"Ha. Ha. Ha," he drawled, reaching for a bottle of wine on the table next to him. I snatched it away.  
  
"Oh no you don't. If you drink this, you'll fall asleep, ad then I'll never learn anything."  
  
He let his head fall back on the top of the chair, staring at the ceiling. "No now, Damslae. I just can't handle it right now."  
  
"Can't handle it?!" I exploded. "What the hell do you mean, you can't handle it?" I hook a long shaky breath. "Look, you just walked out on several hundred people, INCLUDING the king and queen of Sontái. And they didn't stop you! Like it's within your rights to do whatever you want. As if your rank is higher then KING!"  
  
"Can I ask you a hypothetical question?" Aiven asked.  
  
"Hypothetical questions are never hypothetical," I responded in a dry, if shaky, voice.  
  
"What if I said 'yes'? What if I told you that I *do* outrank the royalty of Sontái?"  
  
I stared at him, then sunk down to the floor, crimson skirt crumpling beneath me. I drew my knees up to my chest, surrounding them with my arms. Never once did my eyes leave Aiven, still staring at the golden ceiling. "You outrank the *king*?" I breathed, awed. Aiven picked up his head, glaring at me.  
  
"I SAID it was hypothetical."  
  
I stared.  
  
He let his head flop back again. "Yes. Happy? YES. I outrank just about any noble you are ever likely to meet. I take that back. I don't outrank Sair, Mage-King of Bast. Nor to I outrank Prince Tullon, the Mage- Prince you spoke with tonight. He is of equal rank with me."  
  
I puzzled at this. "Even though he's royalty and you're not?"  
  
"Yes, but I'm a *Seer.* THE Seer. And he's only a mage."  
  
"What do you mean, you're THE Seer?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
I sighed in exasperation. "Well, are you the only Seer in the entire world?" I shivered. It was a little to daunting - MY Aiven, not this mysterious Seer, couldn't be the only of his kind.  
  
"I wish."  
  
"Aiven, you are so not helpful!"  
  
He looked at me, smirking. "Oh, I haven't heard THAT before."  
  
I jumped up. "I refuse to drool at your feet, waiting til you're good and ready to tell me things before I learn anything!"  
  
"I should hope not. The carpet's very expensive."  
  
I stomped my foot. "Aiven!"  
  
He lifted his and let it drop with force to the ground. "Damslae!"  
  
I glared at him, to angry to do anything else.  
  
"Now," said the uncaring recipient of my anger, "Was there anything else?"  
  
I open my mouth, only then realizing that I had completely forgotten what I was going to ask.  
  
He smirked. "You've forgotten."  
  
"Have not!" I cried, sounding like a petulant child. He ignored me, studying his nails with the utmost care. I dropped down into a chair opposite him. "Oh. Are you the only Seer in the world?" I inquired my voice back to normal.  
  
"Hardly. There's one per country."  
  
"'One per country'? Just like that?" I asked in disbelief.  
  
He shrugged. "Exactly."  
  
I sighed, and we sat in silence for several minutes. I stared out the window, but the only thing I could see was the half moon, it's light fading before it could illuminate more then treetops. "Aiven," I said quietly, "Can we be serious for a moment?"  
  
He shrugged again. "I'm always serious." I resisted my urge to throttle him. Back at Kiyra's the only noise was the cricket's song, hear, there were always people nearby, voices floating from one window to another. If I tried to strangle Aiven, someone would surely hear his screams.  
  
"What will we do once we reach Bast? There was another city I wished to visit, but . . . well, there's nothing in it for me. And . . ." and I don't really want to be a thief again. Not without Johen and Tari and Dein.  
  
"And what?"  
  
I shook my head. "And nothing. There's just nothing in life for me. What will you do, in Bast?"  
  
He was quiet for so long I though he would not answer. Just as I opened my mouth to say forget it, he spoke. "I will meet with Corln, their Seer, and Sair. The Mage-King. There is - " his mouth twisted, as if he was thinking of something distasteful, " - a disaster of sorts. An emergency for with I am needed."  
  
"What of the Eternal daughter of Lah'nayin? Would she be needed?" My voice was so soft it could barely be heard.  
  
Aiven looked startled. "You remember." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "That was a mistake. I do not like to prophesize in front of the people I speak of. But yes, you would be helpful . . . more then helpful.  
  
"There will be a war," he said, in a voice so different I jumped in my seat. I looked at his eyes - glazed over. "A war controlled by dark mages with elements at their hands. Find the Saint, and ruin her path - be wary of her. Let not the Aevai'in come to be. Be warned and be ware. When the flames come with their demonic glint, foil the hand that plays the cards. The side helped by the Shanti'ilor will undoubtedly triumph. But this will pass from player to player.  
  
"Forget not the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter for she is the key. Remember her fate."  
  
He was Aiven again; his eyes were clear and his forehead creased. "Stupid," he muttered. "What *is* this cursed war we keep rambling about. "And the Shanti'ilor? THAT'S never been mention before. What in the nine hells is THAT?"  
  
"You don't know what you speak about when you prophesize?" I asked, surprised and delighted that he seemed as dumbfounded as I did.  
  
He looked at me, brown eyes widening as if he had forgotten me. I studied his eyes for a moment; they were usually brown I had realized, but when he was very angry or very annoyed they looked green. Now why was I thinking of that now?  
  
"Don't you dare tell anyone," he scowled.  
  
"What, is it a secret?" I asked, amused. He scowled even more, and I laughed. "It is! Though you act all deep and mysterious, you have no more idea what you're rambling on about then the rest of us!"  
  
He drew himself up. "Yes we do," he snapped. "I can feel things, people, if I'm with them long enough to sense their aura. I can remember every vision sense the dawn of time. EVERY ONE. When some of the prophecies are small or about specific people, I can read then clearly." He raised his head, as if to say, "So there."  
  
I was impressed. Every vision? "What about from living Seer's? Do you know their visions? Do they know yours? Did every single Seer just experience the vision you had? Or . . . was that in fact someone else's vision that you were just sharing. Or are they all COLLECTIVE prophecies?" I looked at him, excited. He, predictably, just glared at me as he rose from his seat.  
  
"You know more then is allowed all ready. Do not ask more." Well, certainly not when he used THAT voice. But there was one thing . . .  
  
"Aiven - am I the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter? You've implied it - but am I?"  
  
"Yes," he answer was curt.  
  
I waited a moment. "Well? What does that mean? Who am I? Who is the Eternal Lah'nayin?"  
  
"You are not to know," he said stiffly.  
  
I shot him a dirty look. "Oh, I'm not to know, am I? Or is it really that none of you oh so great Seer's know nothing about me and are just trying to hide the fact?"  
  
His eyes were far too penetrating then were comfortable. Not that penetrating eyes ever are comfortable. "I know far more about the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin then you have any wish to know."  
  
"Oh no you don't," I protested. "If I'm her, I want to know everything."  
  
"Trust me," he said softly, "You've no wish to know everything."  
  
It was pointless. Aiven was impossible to understand when he was in Seer mode. I wonder how Kiyra dealt with it. Lady knows I couldn't. For some unknown reason I felt like I had to get to the end of my questions, though, so I managed a last one.  
  
"So you will take me to Bast City? I will me able to help against this - coming evil? The Aevai'in? The Saint, and dark mages?" Aiven had to lean closer to me to hear my words, they were so quiet.  
  
"Yes," he responded just as softly. "You need not fear being abandoned."  
  
I looked up sharply into his eyes; green-hazel, but surely he was not angry now? And how had he known what I feared - for I had told no one, not ever.  
  
"Damslae," he breathed, green eyes trapping my own golden ones. Then light as a butterfly wing his lips brushed my own, stirring a feeling I could not even begin to name.  
  
He drew back, then before I could voice a word he had disappeared into his own chambers, and there was nothing left for me to do beside enter my own.  
  
A/N: Just so y'all know, I'm having it so Bast used to be a kingdom, with Bast City as the capital. As the centuries when my, neighboring countries nibbled away bits of the realm so all that was left of it was the former capital city, which was swallowed up and became a city in Ella's kingdom. And yes, I made up the Day of Roses. Just one of those random ideas that floats around in my mind, waiting for release. Now see that lovely little button? Pretty please, press it? ^_^ 


	10. Johen

A/N: Please don't hate me! I know I took absolutely forever to write this, but I had a major writing block. But here it is! At long last, chapter ten. And I promise the next chapter will be out a lot faster. Without further ado . . .  
  
~Tari shakes her head, laughing. "It took you that long to kiss him? I'm surprised at you, Laeli."  
  
"I didn't mean to," I blurt out, my face stained red. I see my red hair falling over my face in an attempt to hide. My gold eyes stare at the ground, examining the cracks in the gray stone.  
  
"Didn't you?" Johen asks, regarding me gravely. I look up, unsurprised that he is there though he was not a moment before. "What about me?"  
  
"I love you!" I tell him, but he looks unconvinced. "Tell him I love him," I say to Tari.  
  
She's not Tari anymore; Kiyra stands in her place. Her chocolate eyes, so like her brother's, are sad. "What about my brother Aiven?"  
  
"And what about me?" says Tari's brother Dein from behind me, but his voice is different, and when I examine him more carefully I see he is the Mage-Prince I dined with.  
  
I shake my head. "I don't know." I tell him.  
  
"Do you love me?" he asks.  
  
I consider him. "That depends," I say.  
  
He leaned closer and covered my mouth with his, and before I close my eyes his cerulean blue ones stare into my own. "Every hero in the history of the world has had cerulean blue eyes," I whisper against his warm lips.  
  
"I don't," Aiven says as he draws back from our kiss, chocolate eyes filled with fiery passion ~  
  
*************************************************************  
  
"Oh gods!" I shrieked, bolting upward and breathing hard. I would just have to relive that kiss wouldn't I? Doomed. I was doomed. How in the seven hells was I supposed to face Aiven today? And why was the Mage-prince of Sontái in my dream? Then Johen had been there . . . beloved, dead Johen.  
  
If he was dead, which would be a blessing. Because if he hadn't died, that meant . . .  
  
I shook my head, refusing to think of what he must have gone through, and all because of that stupid noble. But it was my fault, for being so overconfident.  
  
My door opened, and I gave a startled yelp as I pulled my blanket of higher over my overly bright purple night dress.  
  
"My lady?" asked a girl about my age, curtsying low, eyes on the ground. "Are you quite all right?" She wore unfamiliar livery, a flowing silver gown with a strange crest in the center her chest. The gown looked more like the clothing of nobility then that of a maid; if she had not worn the white headband around her forehead proudly bearing her master's crest . . .  
  
Was it Aiven's?  
  
I realized I was scrutinizing her from her very blond head to the tips of her slipper-clad feet. She must be employed to Aiven - her sweeping silver gown was the color and style - if much less dramatic - of a Seer's clothing.  
  
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. I just had a . . . nightmare." Where I happened to kiss a guy that annoys me every chance he gets and a prince who had magical powers.  
  
"The Lord Seer Aiven Caunlahsta wishes your presence as he breaks fast."  
  
"Um . . . can't you just tell him I'm not hungry?"  
  
Her eyes darted up to the wall behind me in startlement, then down to the floor. "I . . . I have never refused the lord Seer anything."  
  
"I'll bet," I muttered, glaring at her, suddenly resenting her.  
  
"He was most insistent," she said hesitantly. "Wants you to appear quickly and in an appropriate style."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "For what? For rolling out of bed?"  
  
"He has visitors," she said in a meek, kicked-puppy dog voice. "Their Royal Highnesses Prince Rogien and Prince Tullon, and Lady Kiebess and the young Duchess Landraia.  
  
"Oh fun," I said, but less harshly. The girl acted like she had been abused! Aiven hadn't done anything, had he? He wouldn't. That just wasn't him.  
  
"Fine," I said, pulling myself from my soft warm bed to drag on a dress from the ample supply. Dark pink silk with a V-neck and far too many ruffles - as soon as I put it on I wanted to take it off. Only it had been the closest in reach and God of Thunder strike me if I say I'm not lazy. And then there was the blond maid, who was staring at me slack jawed as I pulled a brush purposely designed to wound my head through my red hair.  
  
"You're beautiful!" she exclaimed.  
  
I ran a critical eye over my image in the gilt edged mirror. "Pink dresses and red hair clash."  
  
"Oh no," she protested. "The shade of the gown is exactly the shade of your hair! It's lovely."  
  
Lovely was stretching it. After all, how could anyone be lovely when the light of the rising sun was still coming in? It is my firm belief that no one can look or feel awake until the sun has risen. Still, I didn't look half-bad. I let the maid pull back the top layer of my hair and clip in with a lacy white rose, then entered the main room with the maid a few steps behind me.  
  
For some reason it had never entered my mind that they might be eating in that room. But there they were, a Seer, two princes, and two incredibly lovely ladies - who obviously knew it.  
  
One was blond, with her golden hair twisted back from her face and pulled into a knot at the back, making it look at if she wore a tiara. She had wide blue eyes enchanced by face paint, and her long silky eyelashes were unnaturally black. Her full red lips curved in a self-centered smile, and stood in sharp contrast to her ivory skin. I had an urge hit her and see if she broke like the porcelain doll she resembled, but I exercised my wonderful self-restraint and did not.  
  
The second had dark brown hair and dark gray eyes. She had the air of a queen - probably hoped to become so - and imperialy examined me as I did the same. Her dress was a dark blue, embroidered with mystical looking silver runes.  
  
I glanced at the other lady's dress. Damn. Why'd she have to be wearing pink also?  
  
It was light and gauzy, and looked like one puff of air would blow it right off her. Thank the Lady the windows were closed; otherwise I would be scarred for life.  
  
The three men stood when I entered, and I bit back a laugh, no one, excepting Lord Kieran and his father, had ever stood when I entered a room. And who would have guessed Aiven would be standing for me?  
  
The table they sat at was round, so no one could be at the head. After all, who would have sat at the head? Aiven had said he was of the same rank as the mage-prince Tullon. Of course, I would assume the older twin would outrank the younger one, as he stood to inherit the kingdom, which would mean Prince Rogien outranked Prince Tullon which would mean he also outranked Aiven, except Aiven outranked the king and the king obviously outranked his sons . . . I shook my head. Thinking about this was giving me a headache.  
  
I sat at the seat left open to me, between the two princes. Of Rogien's other side was the blond, and then Aiven. Between Aiven and Prince Tullon was the brunette. I looked across the table, eyes connecting with Aiven's. I was caught between glaring at him defiantly, and looking away with a blush.  
  
The latter one.  
  
Was there a reason he had kissed me? He certainly didn't act as if he liked me, most of the time at least, but sometimes I would catch him looking at me . . . I sighed. It seemed to be the best way to express myself these days.  
  
"We're honored you could join us," Prince Tullon said, bringing my hand to his lips - cue for evil stares from the ladies.  
  
"I don't believe you've been introduced to Lady Kiebess or Duchess Landraia," Aiven said, inclining his head first to the blond and then to the brunette. HE didn't act embarrassed. HE acted as if absolutely nothing had happened, as if he hadn't kissed me last night or anything. I wanted to flutter my eyelashes and murmer, "Why Aiven dear, I don't believe I have." Instead I mutely shook my head, attaching a look of superiority to my features.  
  
The two girls glared at me. I wanted nothing more then to stick my tongue out at them.  
  
"My lady Damslae," the mage-prince said to me, drawing my hand again, "You made an extraordinary exit last night."  
  
I laughed, remembering what happened when his brother had taken my hand. "You are better at this then our brother I told him. "But that may be do to the fact that there's no sugar bowl around." The twins and I laughed. Aiven looked bored and superior. The two girls looked jealous.  
  
"There is to be a ball soon," the heir said, smiling at me, blue eyes sparkling. "An annual one held by Lady Chantaviene. I would be honored if you would accompany me. That is," and he raised an eyebrow, casting a look at Aiven, "if no one else has asked you."  
  
Kieran had. Kieran had asked me, but no one would care if I turned down his offer to go with the prince. No one, except for Kieran who I didn't even like.  
  
"Unfortunetly, she's already going with me," Aiven said smoothly. I glared at him.  
  
"How about we settle that and she goes with me?" Prince Tullon said with a laugh. "After all, I'm the best of all worlds. A prince like Rogien and a mage like Aiven."  
  
I got the feeling the two ladies wanted nothing more then to pound the life out of me.  
  
"Actually," I murmured demurely, "I already have an escort."  
  
"Do you now," Prince Tullon said, raising an eyebrow exactly like his twin had done.  
  
"Yes," I said, as a servant but my food down. I watched as his clenched hands dropped the plate in front of me, recognized the jewel imbedded in his wrist. I frowned. These stones were attached to people - only criminals, according to the law - and nasty rumors accompanied them. That their bearers could only do would the person who had imbedded it in their skin told them too. That an incredible agony could spread through the person bearing it with a single word. I had never seen anyone actually wear one.  
  
I glanced up at the servant's face, curious in a morbid sort of way to see what someone with one of these jewels would look like. My eyes caught the servants; they were blue, very deep and filled with pain. His face was pale and white - blond hair hung to his chin, which was lifted in a proud, defiant manner. His lips were pressed into two straight lines.  
  
I felt my heart stop in astonishment. HE WAS ALIVE. Mt heart wrenched. That meant he had to have undergone terrible agony, incredible suffering and pain. He probably wasn't even the same person anymore . . .  
  
"Laeli?" he said, voice shaking like I had never heard before.  
  
"Oh my god," I whispered, then through myself out of my chair, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You're alive," I sobbed. "Gods, Johen, you're alive." 


	11. Yet Another Title

A/N: I felt this random need to update this evening - you know, the "if I do not update, the world will end and we will all die." Or maybe you don't know that story. That's beside the point.  
  
Okay, PLEASE READ THIS. You all like fantasy riiiiight? So me and my friend (Moonchild) are writing this story called the Thieves of Ollanee, which sorta doesn't have a plot, but that's beside the point. There are two main characters - Fiona, whose point of view Moonchild is writing from, and Layla, who is my character. We have one chapter up so far, and two reviews. PLEASE review. Go to the Favorite authors part of my profile, click on TessChild, read the story, and review! Ta-da! And you can have the honor of being a Hero of the Week! (You know you want to. You might think you don't want to, but you're wrong.)  
  
Anyway, on to JOHEN. I noticed a lot of people didn't remember him, so here's a little description - first JOHEN is JOHANN - I switched his name in the middle of the story on a whim. He was Laeliena's partner thief in Yvonhe, and they were bf/gf. Soldiers took him when he tried to fight the King of Yvonhe's soldiers during . . . well, you'll find more about that in a later chapter. Here are a few things I've mentioned about Johen -  
  
"There was Johen, who was quite the ladies' man besides being a thief. His affairs were always short and carefree. Tari was my best friend, a part elven girl with nothing but their startling green eyes to show what blood ran through her. I had no knowledge what had happened to her. Dein was her brother, younger by a year, but tough as steel. Their parents had been farmers that had died in a bandit raid." Chapter Five, describing Laeliena's friends in Yvonhe.  
  
** - "Laeli, catch!" Johen shouted, tossing the pouch to me. I reached out a hand to grab it, the weight surprising me, and the leather bag bulging with coins. Johen laughed as he swung away from the foreign lady in her fine carriage. He caught up with me, dressed in silks like a bed boy, and we dashed away, the howls and shaking fist of the foreigner following us. He grabbed me and kissed me, twirling me in the air as we laughed hysterically. "Now," he said, plucking at his yellow fluffy sleeves, "I ought to get out of these." Fresh gales of laughter followed -** - Dream, Chapter Eight  
  
And the dream from the last chapter. Bekkah, I liked your idea about the slippers - I'm actually doing something sort of like that, except with Ella's necklace. And as BlueJewel pointed out, I did have once say "seven hells," and another time "nine hells," just cause I like using those for swears. Of course, I should stick with one number. I could make it eight, but I don't want to use an even number for it. Okay, okay, you can read the story now . . .  
  
I hugging him and crying and all around in a state of disarray as I clung to Johen, eyes melded with his. Three words seemed to march about in my mind, refusing to let another thought near; Johen was alive. Living. My fellow thief, my friend, my love - everything wonderful was represented by him. Or at least, it used to be.  
  
When we drew apart we both became very aware of the stunned princes, the shocked ladies, and one expressionless Seer. Staring at them defiantly, Johen turned away, and kissed my forehead. "By every god there ever was, Laeliena, I have missed you, I thought you lost to me forever."  
  
"Laeliena?!" Three astonished voices broke in, staring at me.  
  
Aiven was staring at me with a face white enough to match his formal robes. "What did he call you?" he asked, voice soft and disbelieving.  
  
"I called her by her name, lord Seer," Johen said, managing to sound both respectful and defiant. Why is it he could manage that and I couldn't? He curled a protective arm around my shoulder. "Surely you've heard her name before."  
  
By this time all three of the youth were standing. "Laeliena," the Mage prince said, eyes wide, "is the name of the Shien. The Princess of Lahtorli. "  
  
"Oh, fun," I said sarcastically, "More titles." Suddenly my attention was caught. "Did you say Lahtorli?"  
  
"This," said the duchess, Landraia, pushing to her feet, "is outrageous! The Princess of Lahtorli is a legend, a myth! The girl lies!"  
  
"I haven't even claimed anything yet!" I protested.  
  
"How can she be a from Lahtorli? The country was destroyed centuries ago," Johen chimed in.  
  
"Do I really get to be a princess? And without marrying anyone?" I asked hopefully.  
  
"If everyone would please . . . be silent for a moment, I would be most appreciative," Aiven said in a voice that basically meant, "shut the hell up or I will make the rest of your very short life excruciatingly painful." We shut up.  
  
"My lady," Aiven said bowing to Kiebess. "Your Grace," he said to the brunette. "Please accept my apologies for this rude interruption of our breakfast. Would you do me the favor of resuming it tomorrow morning?"  
  
They assented, and accepted the princes' apologies and farewells, and reluctantly left. I then had the pleasure of watching the princes and Aiven exchange glares, for Aiven obviously wanted them to leave and they would not. They would have stood there forever if Johen had not taken my hand and pulled me toward my room. "Come on Lael - we have some catching up to do."  
  
With an oath Aiven followed us into my room.  
  
"You can't go into the lady's room!" one of the twins called angrily.  
  
"I can," Aiven responded. "You can't."  
  
The door swung shut, and the three of us were alone.  
  
Aiven stood leaning against the door, dressed in black and dark brown, which matched his eyes. He wore loose, billowing clothes much like what he wore last night; mage clothes. He twisted a ring back and forth on his finger, and bit his lower lip. His eyes were cloudy again, glazed, and I was afraid he would prophesize again. He looked unstable, and his fidgeting stilled. I watched his eyes closer this time then I had before - watched them glaze and seem to swirl gently to the right, milky white mixing in with the brown which mixed with the black of his pupil, and mixing with the iris. On top the glassy layer formed. I looked away, feeling too squeamish to watch the odd way his eyes were working. Had they mixed together this much last time?  
  
Johen stood next to my bed, which I sat on. His blue eyes were narrowed as he gazed intently at Aiven, and one hand covered the Quov'in stone imbedded in his wrist. Why? Who had done such a horrible thing to him, and how had he come to serve food in Aiven chambers? How had he gotten to this country in the first place? The last I had known of him, royal soldiers of Yvonhe were taking him to the mines of ShiGallan. And no one comes out of those minds alive.  
  
As I continued to scrutinize Johen, I heard a thump and turned my head to Aiven - to me met by the wall. Quickly lowering my gaze, I found him collapsed on the floor, eyes rolled up in his head - I think. It way have been that the colors of his eyes had just blended so much that I could no longer tell where the pupil was.  
  
I jumped from my bed to go over to him, but Johen grabbed my arm. "Johen, I have to find out what's happened to him," I said, pulling my arm away while offering him an apologetic smile.  
  
"Leave him," Johen said coldly. "He's a Seer. He causes nothing but pain." I glanced at his face, startled, then down to his wrist. I opened my mouth, but was unable to voice the words. Johen's mouth twisted. "He did not do that," he said bitterly. "I did."  
  
I did.  
  
"Impossible," I whispered. No one could inflict that much pain on themselves. It was like trying o strangle yourself; you passed out before you hands could stop your breathing. A person's body simply would not allow them to implant this jewel in them. The pain it causes . . . I had heard it was constant, and did not stop til the end of one's life. And sometimes not even then.  
  
"Laeli," Johen, whispered, and then he leaned down and clutched me to him, kissing me and shaking. I pulled back, and could instantly read the hurt and betrayal in his eyes. I wanted to kiss him back, but there was Aiven . . . who didn't even like me, but he HAD kissed me. I wasn't going to go and kiss someone else the very next day.  
  
You're being crazy, I told myself. You love Johen, so you should be happy to kiss him. Happy that he's alive. I was, truly. As for my love for him . . .  
  
You love him, I repeated to myself, more sternly this time. And he loves you - well, at least a little bit. Aiven, on the other hand, thinks of you as an obnoxious girl who he only puts up with because you're the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin.  
  
Yet he had kissed me.  
  
I rubbed my forehead, glancing from one to another, my eyes resting on Aiven as I waited for him to speak.  
  
He didn't.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Johen said, finally seeming to notice he wasn't getting up.  
  
"Um, well, I don't really know. Something." I broke away from Johen but stopped before I reached Aiven, my mind returning to what Johen had said - "He did not do that. I did." My mind didn't seem to be able to understand that concept. It eluded me, as no sane person would torture themselves that way.  
  
"She poisons the blood."  
  
Johen and I both immediately fastened our gazes of the Seer, and I retreated in astonishment. He was - GLOWING, of all things. Casting out a white light, not warm, not cold, just startlingly white, which seemed to originate from his eyes. I was not sure; his eyes were so obscured by the light that I wasn't really positive that was the source of it.  
  
"Laeli," Johen said, "we'd better get out of here."  
  
A moment passed, as I continued to stare at Aiven. Finally I squeaked out a "Yes," and he took my arm and gently pulled me from the room.  
  
"What happened?" I said, turning my golden eyes toward Johen. "Why's he . . . glowing? What's wrong?" My voice rose, and started to shake. "What's wrong with him? What's wrong with YOU? You have one of THOSE jewels and yet you say you put it in your wrist? Is NO ONE here normal?!"  
  
"Oh, Lael," Johen said softly, voice sad. I didn't wait to hear another word, but dashed from Aiven's apartment, sprinting down the halls. I want to go home, I thought, but there was no home for me.  
  
"Oh!" Shouted a figure as I banged into it and we both collapsed on the floor, skirts billowing about. I took a long look at the girl I had crashed into in my heedless run.  
  
She was tall, taller then any of the other ladies, but she didn't look gangly at all - quite a feat when sprawled on the floor. She had brown hair and brown hair, but something in her looked familiar. She was obviously a lady, and had a worried maid standing next to her, who hurriedly helped her up, and then me.  
  
"I'm sorry," I said, feeling abashed, and embarrassed at my behavior back in Aiven's suite.  
  
"Perfectly all right, Lady Damslae," the girl said, curtsying to me. I gave a start, wondering how she knew my name. She must have noticed, because she spoke up again, "I sat down the table from you last night," she said with a smile. "Everyone was interested.  
  
"Oh," I said intelligently. "I'm sorry - what's your name?"  
  
"Mariva," she responded, curtsying. "Daughter of Duke Onviton, and niece of King Gonlaintovo."  
  
Amazing. The king had a name. It was a rather odd name, and didn't seem to fit what I'd seen of him. I wondered if he just went by Gonny.  
  
"Oh," I said yet again. That was what I'd recognized about her; she looked a little like her cousins. "So you're a duchess?"  
  
She shook her head, seemingly amused at my naivete, but not unkindly. "My mother is. I'm a lady."  
  
"Well," I said, glancing behind me, "um, this is a little . . . random . . . but I don't suppose I could have breakfast with you? Aiven is bound to be a little mad at me, and - well, could I?" I winced. My court manners were rapidly decreasing. Soon I'd be crawling on the floor and saying, "Me want food!" and "Ooh, fire. Ow! It bite!"  
  
"Of course," Mariva said, which was very hospitable. I don't think I'd let a stranger come have breakfast with me. Perhaps I didn't qualify as a stranger; I was the almighty Seer's guest, after all.  
  
"Is the Seer angered greatly? I know my cousins the princes went to eat at his rooms this morning."  
  
"I have another name, which made them all go somewhat insane." We stepped into a richly decorated greeting chamber, where Mariva and I settled on a deep burgundy couch in front of a fire. "I don't suppose you know who the Princess of . . . uh . . . Latli is? Lateri? Oh, I don't know. Something along those lines."  
  
"Do you mean Lahtorli? The Princess Laeliena?" she asked as a servant handed us tea.  
  
"Yes, that was it. Me."  
  
Her eyes widened, and she twisted to face me. "I thought your name was Damslae!"  
  
"I sort of lied," I said, looking into me tea. "And know Aiven got all mad because he thinks that's impossible because I'm also supposed to be someone else, and apparently it's impossible for them to be the same person. Worse, there's this youth I knew from where I used to live and he's there and he had a Quov'in stone in his wrist which he said HE put there, and for some reason he doesn't like Aiven at all, and- " I broke off and took a long sip of tea, knowing I was babbling.  
  
"Laeliena is the Shien," Mariva said slowly and carefully. "And some believe the Shien IS the Saint, but most do not."  
  
It was my time to look at her with wide eyes. "You know about all of this? I - I don't suppose you could tell me?" I had been puzzling forever about all of Aiven prophecies - if they could actually be explained, in part at least -  
  
Mariva grinned. "It seems you have been left out in the cold concerning all these things. That always seems to be the case with the person that everything centers around the most. I will tell you what I know, and you can show those squabbling little boys up when they're being difficult explaining things.  
  
"Thank you," I said sincerely, smiling back at her. I found like I was settled in and safe for the first time since leaving the farm. I felt like I'd found a friend - not like one of the princes to flirt with or Aiven who would occasionally tell me things and could be kind, if it suited him, or even Johen who I had known for years. Here was a girl who I could talk to and would understand me, for she didn't seem at all stuck of like my previous encounters this morning of Sontái's ladies.  
  
"All right," Mariva said, leaning forward conspiringly, "here's what I know . . ." 


	12. A Little History

A/N: I'm so SORRY!!! It's been over a month, and this chapter's not that long . . . But I'm updating all my story's this weekend, AND I'm updating them all on Christmas Eve. Enjoy!  
  
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"A war is coming," Mariva said gravely, face thoughtful as she called all her knowledge of the Seers to hand. "From what I understand, it will be far from normal. Not the raging battles where men are armed with swords and led by kings wishing for more land or to settle a dispute. This will be a battle where the weapons are magic, fought be Seers, Mages, and Mages of Darkness - the creative name we have labeled the enemy. There are certain other players. As I've heard it, the Saint and the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter come up most frequently.  
  
"The Saint is on the side of the enemy. She as disguised as a good person, probably beautiful, and very easy to trust. It is she who will gather information from us, learn our secrets. She is connected with the Aevai'in, a deadly catalyst that will swamp the world in darkness and greed. More then that; it is not quite so simple, so clear cut."  
  
Mariva took a deep breath, staring at her fingers before she continued. "The Aevai'in will not cause the world to suddenly burst into flames and make kingdoms fall. Instead, life will slowly sour, like a plague slowly infecting all of humanity. People will cheat each other of goods, pointless wars will be fought, friends will betray one another. All that was good will slowly turn corrupt, leaving the world a place of greed and distrust, where those with money are thew highest gods. Not everyone will become twisted immediately - only the most susceptible, then they will drag down the rest. Eventually, the souls will leave all people. Humanity will be completely and utterly destroyed."  
  
She glanced up now, meeting my eyes. "As the dark players have their advantage, we have the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin - you. The Saint, some people believe, but unlikely. The Eternal Lah'nayin is supposed to be, after all, the daughter of the Lady and Lord - or from what information I've gleaned I think that's who. Her daughter is the weapon of our side, the person who will help us - we hope - win." She smiled wryly. "I wish I knew more, but they're so secretive about her - you."  
  
"What about - about the Princess of Lahtorli? Who I apparently am, even though I apparently can't be?"  
  
"Lahtorli is a dead kingdom . . . ."  
  
"Oh, great. I've always wanted to be princess of a dead kingdom."  
  
"It was destroyed in the flames from the eyes of the Lady's father, before humans were created, before any of the land lay as it does now. The Kingdom of Music . . . The Elven land . . ." Mariva looked at me inquiringly. "Children learn of it in school, in their history course. Weren't you?"  
  
"I didn't go to school. The only country I was ever interested in was my own."  
  
"Oh. Well, Laeliena was the last princess -"  
  
I was a little annoyed with the boys. If everyone knew the name of the princess, why was it that astonishing that I had it? Maybe my mother liked fancy princess-y names.  
  
"-and though everyone is taught about her, she is only referred to as the Princess of Lahtorli. Only the Seers know her name."  
  
"And you."  
  
"Well, my betrothed is the Seer of Bast. And I have Priestess Magic, only I refused to go train to be one. It wasn't very much, and I had dreams of riding off with my own handsome prince, like in bedtime stories. So when the Priestesses came to me when I was only five, I threw a temper tantrum and my uncle said I didn't have to leave. I like to think I'm a little less of a spoiled brat now. The entire point of that was that I was mindlocked with Corln - the Bastian Seer - by accident. Since he had the stronger power, he was able to keep his thoughts from me - though he absorbed all of mine. However, he had only just come out of a vision concerning the Princess of Lahtorli, and I was able to gain her name, though nothing else.  
  
"That's how I know. Anyway, *no one* carries the name of Laeliena anymore - it hasn't been used in thousands of years. Apparently the princess was a martyr of some such - I never paid much attention when my governess tutored me in history. I do know that Laeliena is the Shien - the wavering point, the focus of the powers. She is reborn, with all her all her mind intact - all knowing, but she shares none of her knowledge. The Shien makes discussions that play a grand part in determining the outcome, but they are all more to help her land that no longer exists - that is completely not clear, but that's how I understand it. I'm sorry. I don't understand a lot of it myself."  
  
"No, it was much more then I did. Thank you." I leaned back, finishing my tea. "The Princes knew what the name Laeliena meant."  
  
Mariva nodded. "The higher ranking Mages also know this, and Tullon would never keep a secret from his twin."  
  
"And Landraia seemed to have a pretty good idea what she was talking about."  
  
"Did she really? Or was she just piecing together pieces of what others have said?"  
  
"She said something along the lines of how I was an outrageous liar and the Princess of Lahtorli was a myth."  
  
"Oh. She probably thought they were talking about how being the Princess reborn - which they were, but connected to the prophecies. I wouldn't pay much attention to her - in magic related things, at least. In court, she's made it so she's one of the most important person."  
  
"I don't think I like her."  
  
"How astonishing." We grinned at each other. "Anything more uplifting you'd like to do now?  
  
* * *  
  
There was no one else in the courtyard Mariva and I entered. Well, except for the couple hidden by the lilac bush that we knocked into, but they barely counted seeing how they stayed there the entire time. I ignored them, concentrating on the colors in the garden; even in the late fall, they were beautiful. Late flowers bloomed and trees were full of beautiful leaves of red, brown, and gold. A few leaves were artfully scattered on the ground, but not in clumps, covering anything, or in pathways. I wondered if the royal gardeners went to classes for Artfully Arranging Dead Leaves . . .  
  
At the center was a tall fountain. A figure stood on a wide spiral in the center, water pouring from his hands. "Which one is he?" I asked, recognizing the features of the princes.  
  
"Both," she replied, pointing out the circlet with the design of heir, and the jeweled necklace proclaiming the owner a Mage.  
  
"It was sculpted recently."  
  
"This year," Mariva responded dryly. "A new one every birthday, and the old ones stand in one of the palace's galleries."  
  
"I have the feeling you find your cousins . . . spoiled."  
  
"Spoiled? *My* cousins? Of course not," she said sarcastically. She stirred the water with one finger. "I'm sorry. It's just that they get everything they want, and they are so . . . perfect. Gorgeous, chivalrous, charming. . . Rogien is the perfect heir, the perfect knife, the perfect dancer - his list of tributes is longer then I care to recite. And Tullon is this royal Mage; powerful, handsome, sickeningly *royal.*" She sighed, sounding a little upset. "Such wonderful *males.*"  
  
Understanding struck. "Your parents wanted a boy."  
  
"Prayed daily. Offered up money and jewels to the Lady. They left offerings! No one does that anymore. Honestly . . . Then Tullon and Rogien were born, TWIN boys, just a year before me. They think I'm a failure," she said bitterly. "They've been coddling my cousins ever since I was born, and my mother found out she was barren. As if they could convince Tullon to be their heir. Or marry me, something I'd rather not be part of. You have know idea how happy they were when Corln consented to marry me."  
  
"It's an arranged marriage?"  
  
"Every marriage is," Mariva said, looking at me oddly. "But I love him. I didn't, but I do now."  
  
We sat in silence for a minute. Even though she was nobility, Mariva had to put up with some terrible things. I couldn't even remember my parents. I had certainly never been compared to someone else, unless it had to do with my skills as a thief. To have your worth based on your sex . . . That would be unbearable.  
  
"Lady Laeliena?" a voice broke through my thoughts sharply. It was male, cold and stiff - not to mention very familiar. Mariva looked up, but I was slow to follow her example. He had never addressed me by my true name, and never so coldly. Besides, what was with the "Lady"?  
  
When I raised my head, I saw Aiven, dressed all in silver, eyes slightly condemning. He bowed first to Mariva, who hurriedly stood and curtsied, looking not a little awed. Aiven bowed to me then, mouth a tight line, motions stilted.  
  
"What is it?" I said, voice sounding uncomfortable high. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I believe, my lady, that we should depart for Bast."  
  
"But - "  
  
"Now."  
  
"Aiven -"  
  
"We will be leaving in thirty minutes. I will await you in the audience chamber." With another bow to both of us, he turned and walked off.  
  
"No."  
  
He paused in his tracks as my mouth formed that one word, then turned to look at me, face shuttered. "I'm sorry?"  
  
"I said no," I repeated, feeling my temper rising. "I've been invited to a ball, in case you've forgotten. And we are guests of their Majesties. I want to take leave of Lady Jainalii before we leave as well. But most of all," here I was standing and glaring at him, slowly pronouncing each word, "you - have - to - explain. What the hell is going on here? Why are you so mad at me, and why is it so desperate that we leave immediately? Plus, I want to know about Johen. In case you've forgotten, he's my best friend, AND I'm in love with him!" My voice had ridden to an ear splitting level. "I'm SICK of all your mysteries manners! I'm SICK of not knowing anything, of having to follow your plans. And most of all, I'm sick of being a pawn in your annoying little games!"  
  
At that point, the sky opened up and rain poured down. 


	13. Stolen Rings and Other Things

Within two seconds I was soaked to the bone, pink dress plastered against me. The rain formed a curtain surrounding me. I could dimly see Mariva's shape, and I couldn't see Aiven at all. "Mariva!" I shouted, though she was barely two feet from me. The pounding rain drowned out the sound.  
  
She stepped towards me, and grabbed my hand. "Did you do that?" she shouted back at me.  
  
"Me? I don't think so. At least, I hope not. I'm no Mage!" I couldn't help wondering if I had done that. I had never seen rain come down so suddenly.  
  
Or stop so suddenly, I thought as I realized that within the space of one blink, there was no longer droplets beating on my shoulders and head. The only dripping came from our clothing and hair - which amounted to enough water to fill a lake.  
  
"My lady," a guarded voice said, from behind me, and I turned to see Prince Tullon standing there, wringing out his sleeves.  
  
"Is there any particular reason you're in this garden, too?" I asked, tilting my head. To hell with being polite.  
  
"I felt an uncontained release of untrained magic," he said, meeting my eyes. It looked like he was trying to contain a smile. I watched as his gaze transferred to his cousin beside me.  
  
"All I felt was rain," I muttered under my breath.  
  
"Rain that you caused." I jerked. I hadn't realized Aiven was so close to me.  
  
"How?" I asked. "I'm not a Mage. I'm not!" I protested as they continued to stare at me.  
  
"The daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin is not," Aiven said, staring hard at me. "The princess of Lahtorli, however . . ."  
  
I glanced at Mariva to see her reaction, only to be met by a very unusual sight. "Mariva!" I gasped, staring at her face. Blue streak ran down from her eyes, along with black streaks. Red rouge decorated her chin and neck. I couldn't stop from laughing, and she joined in, a sort of desperate laugh.  
  
"You look HORRIBLE!" she told me.  
  
"So do you!" I told her. "Like a monster in a play!"  
  
Catching her breath, Mariva cried out "Boo!" which for some reason made us both laugh uncontrollably, collapsing to the floor. After we finally stopped, we glanced at each other, then were off again.  
  
When I looked at Aiven, he was grinning too, even though he looked like he didn't want too. Tullon was looking at us like we WERE something to be afraid of, but he too was amused.  
  
"Here," Aiven said, pulling out two white handkerchiefs and handing them to Mariva and me.  
  
"They're white," I told Mariva, which made us both laugh again, for a long enough time that the youths started to look concerned - of course, that only made us laugh even harder.  
  
By the time Aiven dragged me away and Tullon took his cousin, I had managed to put on a serious face. "Are you all right?" Aiven asked once we were in his rooms, sitting on the plush sofa.  
  
I stared out the window, watching birds dive about. "I think a better question would be, are you?" I said quietly, returning my gaze to his. "What happened this morning?"  
  
"I could ask the same of you," her said with a wry grin. "You and - your lover - were there one moment, and then you were gone when I came out of my trance."  
  
"He's not my lover," I said, sitting up straighter. "And he never was."  
  
"You said he was," Aiven said, watching my face closely - more then likely because of the smudged makeup.  
  
"I said he was my love," I said, standing up.  
  
"Where are you going""  
  
"To wash my face," I responded, glaring at him. "Is that all right?" I stomped into me room, glancing at the mirror. "I look terrible," I said in disbelief, then hurriedly washed everything off. Make-upless and face rubbed red, I returned to the middle room.  
  
"What happened to you?" I asked him as I sat again. "You said, 'She poisons the blood,' but nothing else, though you certainly acted strange. What happened?"  
  
He looked away from me. "It was nothing. Honestly." For some reason his honestly didn't sound very honest.  
  
"Then tell me why we need to leave."  
  
"We must go to the capital of the Bastian Empire."  
  
"I know that," I said lowly, as if speaking to a slow child. "We've been planning on that. I'd just like to know why we can't wait."  
  
Silence reigned in the room for several long moments before Aiven finally spoke. "They have made their first move."  
  
"What? Who - the bad guys?"  
  
His lips curved slightly - not that I was staring at his lips or anything. "Yes. 'The bad guys.' The Dark Mages. The denizens of flame and air, and the mists of earth and water. The hamadryad. The Saint."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You don't need to know."  
  
I glared at him. "Does it ever occur to you that I might want to know? That since I'm involved in this I might be inter - " Aiven stopped me, covering my mouth with his hand. I glanced at him, startled enough that I didn't try to move away.  
  
"All right," he said, which completely stunned me. He was actually going to tell me something? "The crown prince of Clait was found dead this morning, murdered by strangulation in a method unique to the country of Tharlin. Clait and Tharlin have been at odd since the formers king refused to wed his daughter to one of Tharlin's princes, and instead had her marry the son of a kingdom Tharlin dislikes. Because Clait's heir has been murdered, Clait has declared war on Tharlin. Their battles will most likely take place Sarlainth, the mountainous country between them."  
  
"So . . .?" I said. "Two countries are fighting. It's not like it's never happened before."  
  
"That is besides the point. The point is that this is the beginning of the Mages of Darkness' work. They have chosen the physical part of our battleground - Sarlainth, where more dead bodies will not be uncommon because of the war."  
  
"Can't the Seers and Mages in those three countries do something about this? Stop the war?"  
  
"Perhaps. But the Sarlainth Seer has been corrupted - in a way. As soon as a Seer is corrupted, as soon as their loyalties are twisted, so are their powers. They can no longer access the trove of our preceder's visions or any of our shared powered. Their Seeings are warped and blurred. A new Seer becomes the royal one, someone else with powers that were unawakened. The corrupted Seer is no longer the Seer of Sarlainth; that position falls to Favlon, as of two years ago. Rinthe has disappeared." Aiven looked grim, like he was remembering something painful. I wondered if Rinthe had been a friend of his. "It is this twisted Seer that arranged for the war between the other two countries, who arranged for the fighting to be on the land of Sarlainth. And so our fights will be there.  
  
"That is why I want to leave for Bast; the war has come sooner then we thought and we must prepare for it."  
  
I stared, stunned. Amazed as I was by all this information, I was even more amazed that Aiven had shared it with me. He was not exactly the confiding sort.  
  
"So we're leaving now," I said slowly, trying to process all that I'd learned.  
  
"If you'll come," Aiven said, looking away from me and moving back, as if he'd just realized how close we were. I just had; knees touching, foreheads close. Suddenly I felt very shy. I met Aiven's warm eyes.  
  
"Damslae," he said softly, taking my hand. "I . . . what I mean is, you - would you - "  
  
The door opened and slammed shut, and I had an almost irresistible urge to jump up and strangle whoever it was at Aiven leaned back stiffly, his eyes shuttering.  
  
"Your Highness," Aiven said, nodding to the heir, who nodded in return. Rogien looked from Aiven to me spectivily, no doubt noticing the red in my cheeks. Even if I'd dumped all the rouge I had on them they couldn't be redder, I was sure.  
  
"If I could just speak to you for a moment, Aiven . . ." The prince trailed off, looking at me as if by thought alone he could make me leave the room.  
  
"Of course," Aiven said, nodding for him to sit on the seat he had vaquented, and sitting down next to me. To my surprise - and Prince Rogien's - he did not tell me to leave.  
  
"I would ask you to watch over my brother. I know we are all of the same age, but you've been much more in control of your life then my brother or I have been. When you go to Bast, I'd just life you to make sure nothing happens to him." The prince dropped his eyes to the ground, and I wished that I had someone that cared about me as much as the prince obviously cared about his twin. "Please, Aiven."  
  
"Of course," Aiven, agreed, smiling at Rogien. "He won't be on any of the battle fields at all, you know. His contribution will risk only his mind," Aiven said with a wry smile."  
  
"Well that's a relief. He won't lose anything in that case," the elder prince said with a laugh, but I could see he was relieved. Standing, he nodded again at Aiven, then took my hand and kissed it. "I am forever sorry I cannot be your escort he said, smiling charmingly at him. I smiled too, almost unconsciously slipping a ring from his finger as he lowered my hand with his own. He left.  
  
I stared down at the ring in my hand, as Aiven crossed to the window, not noticing. It was a pretty ring, with two green stones and an opal in it, but for some reason I couldn't slip it in my pocket. Without really knowing what I was doing, I jumped up and ran from the room, barely registering Aiven calling after me. I reached the prince.  
  
"Your Highness," I said, knowing I was absolutely crazy. He turned with raised eyebrows. "You dropped something."  
  
"I've heard that before," he said with a grin. "And here I though you needed no one but Aiven - or that servant boy."  
  
"I'm not doing this to flirt with you!" I cried angrily. "You did. This ring." I opened my fist and showed to him.  
  
"Oh," he said in surprise, slipping in on. "I didn't notice that slip off." He grinned again as he slipped it onto his bare forefinger. "My apologies. Some girls just come up with desperate things to get my attention."  
  
"It's all right," I said, curtsying then hastily moving back as my skirt was dripping on his shoes. I really ought to change.  
  
Why had I done that? I wondered as I walked back to Aiven's rooms. I had never felt the need to return anything that I'd stolen before. Never. It just did not occur to me. Yet I had just ran after someone I didn't know or care about, someone with thousands of rings, to give one back. It was as if I had qualms about taking things.  
  
I shook my head as I reentered the room. That was absolutely ridiculous. I was a thief. Period. There was absolutely no reason for me to change.  
  
"Why," Aiven said in a smooth voice, still leaning against the windowsill and staring out, "did you go chasing after Rogien?"  
  
"I didn't," I said defensively. "I just - I was returning something he dropped."  
  
"Really," Aiven said in a flat voice," turning to stare at me, all warmth gone from his honey colored eyes.  
  
"Yes, really. He dropped a ring and I returned it."  
  
"Why would YOU return jewelry?"  
  
Good question. "It was his," I said weakly.  
  
"You wanted an excuse to talk to him, didn't you?"  
  
"Lady, you think that to, don't you? Are all men hopelessly conceited and think the only reason something nice is done is for attention. He left it here and I thought I should return it all right?" I felt my face burn, and I buried my hands in my wet, heavy skirt, aching to get out of it.  
  
Suddenly his face changed. "You stole it!" he said, sounding half- amazed, half-gleeful. "You stole it, then felt bad, and had to return it!"  
  
"That's completely not true!" I argued, but my red face gave me away.  
  
"You shouldn't me embarrassed," Aiven said grinning at me. "There's nothing wrong with being a good, law abiding citizen-"  
  
"Aiven, you're being unfair!"  
  
"Am I?" He said, taking my arm and tugging me down next to him as he sat on the velvet couch. He looked young, smiling and laughing. He was almost never in a playful mood. I realized with a pang that being a Seer had stolen most of his life from him. It wasn't fair I thought as I smiled back at him. He could have had a good life, a happy one, unburdened by all these wars. Married whom he liked . . .  
  
"Did you ever truly love Chayette?" I asked softly, thinking of the pretty brunette that had claimed they were pledged to each other.  
  
Aiven's eyes slid from mine, focusing somewhere around my ear. "No," he said. "She wanted me for a long time . . . I was eleven when I had my first vision. Five years younger then you are now, and a heavy weight was placed on my shoulders. I Saw myself meeting the last Seer in a place known only to us, Saw my powers that had lied dormant awaken, and knowing what he knew as he left our world. A week later, exactly that happened.  
  
"No one but Kiyra and our parents knew. But the rest f the village knew there was something special about me. I would disappear for long periods of time and come back finely clothed. I enjoyed my position; and I still do. With the responsibility come luxuries, friends, wealth, and pleasure in my Seeing . . . I brought back things for my family and close friends. And Chayette's father set his mind on me for a son-in-law when I was only fourteen.  
  
"Chayette was beautiful, confident, and charming. There was the addition that she didn't know who I was; all the court ladies wanted me to wed their daughters, but that was because I was the Seer. Chayette didn't know, which gave her a more innocent air to me."  
  
He shrugged, still staring at my ear. "As I grew older, I realized that I was still the richest youth around, and I served the same purpose to girls in the village as I did to the ladies at court, just on a smaller scale. Still, it was easy to go along with Chayette, just to keep the other girls off me. I never pledged myself to her, though I knew she expected me to marry her."  
  
"You played with her heart."  
  
Now he met my gaze. "As she would have played with mine if I had let her. It would have been simple enough to fall in love with her. But I was not cruel; I always told her I could not marry her. She just chose not to believe me." Is grin was lopsided. "My turn. Do you really love Johen?"  
  
My throat went dry. I wanted to say "of course," but I had the feeling he had been completely truthful with me, and it had not sounded like something he told often. "I . . ." was my sophisticated beginning, "See - We've known each other forever. Since we were five and met when he stopped a lord from catching me when I cut his purse. It was the two of us for years, until we met Tari and Dein. They were my family. And Johen became more. NOT a lover; more then that. Everyone expected that one day . . . well, thieves don't usually marry, but we always thought we would. That we'd - oh I don't know, have a normal life, though neither of us thought of giving up our trade. Then I was dragged off because of the prince, and Johen was taken away to Shi'Gallen, a prison. I was sure he would die; dying would be pleasurable to what happens to people in Shi'Gallan. I spent three months in the company of Yvonhe's royals, then over month after being banished with you. I never really thought I'd see him again. It was absolutely shocking when - when he just entered this room - and I loved him so much. . ."  
  
I looked away. Did I still love him? He had acted oddly, true, but that didn't change anything. And I had loved him for so long. "I don't know," I said finally. "I might - but . . ."  
  
"But you might just be afraid to let go of him . . ."  
  
I looked quickly at his face, which was watching me closely. I had said what I'd tried to keep from myself, what might be the truth. I hadn't ever been so confused in my entire life. Even if I didn't love Johen, I at least felt responsible for him, as if all the torture he had undergone was my fault, and it was in a way. If Praithan had not decided he wanted to marry me, his guards would never have stopped Johen when he was with me.  
  
"I should change my dress," I murmured, slowly rising from my seat and staring down at Aiven. "I'll be ready soon . . ." I trailed off. I seemed to be doing a lot of that recently.  
  
"Laeliena," Aiven said, also standing, and brushing my cheek with his hand. We stood like statues neither moving, barely moving.  
  
"I should change," I said again, and tearing my gaze away from his eyes, I retreated into my room. 


	14. Departure

A/N: Sorry about the delay to those who complained . . But it's a long chapter! And I promise the next one will be up in a week, two weeks. For those who want more explanation on stuff, or it's unclear, I'm TRYING to work on a website to clear everything up, but I really suck at that stuff so I might just end up posting a chapter explaining stuff that's unclear. Sorry! But enjoy . . . ^_^  
  
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I swept out into the main room again, comfortable in my green satin - duchesse satin, I knew, thanks to Lady Jainalii - gown, which was, Lady bless, dry. My reapplied make-up and borrowed jewelry gave me confidence as I was ready to demand to know where Johen was. Even if my feelings toward him had changed, I still needed to talk to him. And I didn't know if my feelings HAD changed. Maybe I did still love him. Certainly remembering all those times together filled me with warmth. He was so familiar, so much part of my life . . .  
  
Aiven wasn't in the room, however, so I couldn't demand to know where Johen was. I peeked into his chamber, but couldn't see him there, either.  
  
I started to close his door, but curiosity got the better of me. He'd never know if I just peeked around a little bit . . . The room was decorated in silver and white, which was a little boring to my eye. It was, however, impressive. A tall arching ceiling and a little fountain in the room made in seem more like an indoor courtyard then a bedchamber. On a table desk to the bed - which had three steps leading up to it - there was a clear ball.  
  
My eyebrows rose as I looked at it. In Yvonhe, whenever the rare topic of Seers came up, we mentioned them seeing through a crystal ball. But then, the common stereotype had them as wizened old blind men as well.  
  
The crystal - if it was that - looked exactly like what a Seer's seeing glass ought to. It was set on a cradle, a little stand with four dragons snaking out to hold it in place. The ball itself was clear in some parts yet milky in others, and throughout it was streaked with the colors of the rainbow, changing forever as I tilted it. Only the veins of gold seemed to stay in place.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
I shrieked and dropped the crystal, watching aghast as it splintered into a thousand pieces. The colors seemed to spill out of it and vanish, and the gold veins splintered off from the crystal, looking like hot molten gold on the silver rug.  
  
I raised my eyes to Aiven's, horrified. What if he wouldn't be able to see anything now that I'd ruined this? What if it was dreadfully important, or one of a kind, and it could never be replaced and this was just positively TERRIABLE -  
  
"Damn," Aiven said calmly, picking up one of the shreds and examining it closely. He sighed. "Oh well. I was about due for someone to break this one. I suppose I'll have to order another one."  
  
"Aren't you going to throw a fit?" I said in a small voice.  
  
He glared at me. "I do not "throw fits." besides, it would be pointless. You'd only retaliate by screaming louder and my eardrums would break."  
  
I gave him a withering look, but was still afraid I had gone too far by breaking the crystal. "Will you still be able to See?" I asked. What if his powers were all centered in this ball? That was how the bards' tales went . . .  
  
He gave me a startled look, then laughed. At my look of offense - I was really worried that I had made his powers disappear - he laughed even harder, sinking down into the carpet.  
  
"What?" I asked, annoyed.  
  
"You honestly believed those stories about Seers and crystal balls?"  
  
"Why not?" I asked, glaring at him again. I don't like being laughed at.  
  
"It's just . . . the whole purpose -" one look at me made him break out in fresh laughter.  
  
I sat down on the floor near him, exasperated. Obviously I'd just have to wait until he was done laughing. I'd probably wrinkle my duchesse satin dress beyond repair, but I didn't care right now.  
  
When he finally regained his breath, Aiven explained. "It's a joke, in a way. Everyone seems to expect certain things from Seers - the clothes we were, the runes we write, carrying staffs, seeing through crystal balls and using certain talismans - we sort of go along with it. The crystals especially. They're very impressive to people, who usually think it's the source of all our power and whatnot. They're wrong of course. The crystals are just for decoration, as are most of the other things we have. We all buy them from companies in Jayklin, and try to outdo each other in what we have . . . The people who make all these things make quiet a tidy profit. "  
  
I stared at him open mouthed. "You're kidding."  
  
"Certainly not," Aiven said with a smirk. "It's all used to impress people. And you should see Jayklin. It's a city-country, where the Seers live, and the people who support us. There are many different merchant stores specializing in robes and staffs and jewelry . . ."  
  
"That's outrageous!" I exclaimed. "So it's all for show?"  
  
"Isn't everything in life? Kings buy their fine clothes and their palaces and their falcons, we buy other things. People just expect mystical things to be connected to them."  
  
"Then how DO you See?" I asked warily.  
  
"I can't answer that."  
  
"Why not?" I demanded.  
  
"Because you aren't a Seer."  
  
"When did you figure that out?" I asked sarcastically. "Come on Aiven, do you always have to be so mysterious?"  
  
"Yes," he said shortly, all humor leaving him suddenly. "Why were you in my room?"  
  
"I was looking for you."  
  
"And going through my things?"  
  
"All I did was look at the crystal, which you've admitted can be replaced."  
  
He glared at me. "It will be expensive."  
  
"Oh, the horror, the terror," I said sarcastically. "Can't you just make a call through the fire saying, "please send me a new crystal," and have it directly shipped here?"  
  
Aiven drew himself up to his full height, looking at me disapprovingly. "That would be a Mage's work," he stated. "Not the Seer's."  
  
"Ooh, sorry. My mistake." After a second of looking at each other, Aiven smiled slightly.  
  
It struck me that I really LIKE his smile.  
  
"Uh, Aiven?" I began softly, a little hesitant to bring up this new subject. "Um, see, before we leave, I'd really, REALLY like to talk to Johen. I just don't exactly know where he is."  
  
Aiven watched me silently.  
  
"That was my very obvious hint to tell me where he is," I prompted.  
  
Aiven just shrugged, sitting next to me on the bed. "I don't know where lover-lad is," he said sarcastically. "I asked about him, but he was filling in for one of my regular servants. It appears he is one of the palace servants. A scullery boy," he said, hard-pressed to contain his glee as he pronounced Johen of that particular rank.  
  
I frowned at him. "By the Lady, Aiven, it's not funny! He is not just a scullery boy. He has been one of my closest companions for as long as I've lived."  
  
"One?" Aiven said, amused. Much as I liked seeing him smile, I'd rather he wasn't laughing at my friends or me.  
  
"Yes, one," I repeated glaring at him and flipping my titan hair over my shoulder. "The others were my best friend Tari and her brother Dein. And I want to be able to talk to Johen, because he has obviously suffered a lot and I want to be able to help him."  
  
"You don't care when *I* suffer," Aiven grumbled.  
  
I looked at him in surprise. "You don't suffer," I told him firmly. "You're far too noble and aloof to do that."  
  
"Was that an insult or a compliment?" Aiven asked suspiciously.  
  
I widened my golden eyes knowing they would make a dear jealous, and fluttered my eyelashes soulfully. "Would I insult you?" I said, full aware that the look I was giving him coupled with my bell-like tone of voice was more then equal to melting men into eager pools of complacency.  
  
Aiven however, just gave me proof that unlike most men, his heart was not made of muscle, nor even ice, but instead really, REALLY hard stone that and a burning point way past where I was able to count. He didn't appear enchanted, or suddenly freeze or anything like that. Instead he laughed, patted my hand patronizingly, and said, "O'course no, little 'un," in a pronounced country accent, before ruffling my hair.  
  
"Thanks," I said sarcastically, reaching up and patting my hair back into place. There go my womanly charms. "Do you know were he is or not?"  
  
Aiven flopped backwards, sprawling across the bed. "Nope," he said with a cat-like grin and looking incredibly un Seer-ish. "But you're free to search the kitchens for him until our departure at noon."  
  
"Then I'd best be off," I said, jumping off his bed and leaving his room without a glance back at him, head held high.  
  
Of course, as soon as I left the room I slowed my pace, waiting for him to come after me. To my pathetic disappointment, he didn't.  
  
*******************************  
  
The kitchens were very big, very full, very hot, and filled with people giving the gold-eyed lady in duchesse satin odd looks. Why wouldn't they? I suppose I did look a tiny bit abnormal wearing a green gown with sweeping sleeves and an elaborate hairstyle in the middle of several large rooms were the people wore aprons and sweaty faces.  
  
"Pardon, but can I help you, m'lady?" one kitchen lass said, bobbing a curtsy and giving me an angry look. Unlike the other girls, her pretty blond hair was braided into six separate braids, whipping up and down as she moved.  
  
I scowled. I wanted nothing more then to dress in normal - COMMON - clothes, an act as I usually did, I still felt like I was impersonating a lady, rather then being one. Still, there was no reason the six-braided blond should be giving me such an angry look. Yet the girl reminded me of myself; I had never been that fond of nobles either, and hated when they invaded my space.  
  
"I'm looking for a youth," I said shortly. "Blond hair, blue eyes, taller then me. His name is Johen. Do you know where he is."  
  
Six Braids glared at me and shook her head. She began to walk away, but not quick enough - as if I couldn't tell she was lying!  
  
I caught her arm. "Where is he?" I demanded, looking around the kitchen as if he might pop into sight.  
  
She wrenched her arm away. "Why do you want to see him, *m'lady*?" she asked, emphasizing my title as if it was an insult or something.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Because he's my friend," I said slowly, as if I was talking to a two-year-old.  
  
"Nobles like you aren't "friends" with us folk," Six Braids spat angrily. "Johen's gone through a lot of pin, but don't think that I'll let some stuck up snob me even more cruel to him."  
  
How long had this girl known him? Around a month or something? I hadn't done a single impolite thing - excluding the grabbing her arm bit, but that was provoked, - but I was getting close. "DON'T help me," I muttered as Six Braids stomped away, then I started to search the kitchens for him.  
  
It was a little boy who finally showed me where Johen was - sitting on a narrow stairway and holding his wrist. His eyes were closed and he was gasping in pain as the colorful jewel shone.  
  
"Johen," I said, taking his hands. He looked as if he was about to pass out. "He clenched my hands tightly, shudders wracking his body. Suddenly his eyes rolled up and he began to cough violently. "Johen," I whispered tightly, releasing one of his hands to touch his cold, damp forehead. In an instant, a wave of heat washed his body, turning his face red and making his temperature burn. I grabbed his trembling hand again, holding them both tightly and staring at my friend with huge frightened eyes.  
  
Shuddering one last time he let out a terrifying scream, sounding like the cry of a demon. It went on and on, his body convulsing. I could not help but let go of his hands to grab my ears, praying that the dreadful wailing would cease.  
  
It did, and abruptly too. All of a sudden, it was Johen sitting before me again; breathing hard, but himself nonetheless.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he muttered, trying to stand but collapsing again on the steps.  
  
"It' s that stone, isn't it? Who did this to you?" My voice was rising; I was dangerously close to hysterics. "We MUST get it removed, immediately! You can't live like this!"  
  
This time, it was he who took my hands to comfort me. "It's okay, Lael," he whispered, stroking my cheek. "It's okay."  
  
"It's NOT!" I exclaimed tears glistening in my eyes. "You're in pain, eternal suffering - you expect that not to bother me? Someone MUST be able to get rid of it."  
  
"No," he said sadly. "It takes an incredible amount of money to remove it, and more often then not, the person dies from the procedure."  
  
"It will kill you anyway!" I screamed, then took a deep breath. "Oh Johen," I said brokenly, and turned my face away to hide the tears that I could no longer blink back.  
  
I couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believed that wicked Quov'in stone imbedded in his wrist. The pain that it inflicted was legendary, horrifying . . . And here was Johen, bearing one. Johen, who had always been strong, filled with laughter and mischief, was now turned into a wounded, screaming youth suffering from untold agony. He had been taken to Shi'Gallen - I didn't even want to think about what had happened to him at that place, what he had undergone . . . and all because of me.  
  
It was then that Six Braids interrupted us. "What are you doing to him?" she demanded angrily, rushing up the stairs to where we sat and glaring down at me.  
  
Johen looked up in surprise, and all of a sudden I felt him clothe himself in another personality, a safe, comfortable one, at ease with the pain inside him. "You've met Dirlenne?" he said in surprise, looking at me.  
  
"You know her? Six Braids said, catching her breath "How?"  
  
He looked at her wryly. "I've known her for more years then I've know anyone, girl," he said calmly. "Why d you ask?"  
  
Six Braids's - Dirlenne's - mouth fell open. "I - I -" she stammered.  
  
"Can you make my excuses to Cook?" Johen said when she obviously could not go on. "I don't think I'll be helping with the rest of the meal preparation."  
  
Biting her lip, Dirlenne nodded and left.  
  
"That wasn't very nice," I chided once she was gone. "The lass obviously likes you."  
  
He grinned, but I could still see pain in it. "Most girls do," he said. I refrained from mentioning that most girls would be too scared to let themselves like someone burdened by a Quov'in stone.  
  
"How did you get that?" I softly asked, reaching out and touching the jewel's smooth surface. "Did you really -" here I stopped, wincing, "- you know, put it in . . . yourself?"  
  
He looked away, up the staircase. "It was the only thing I could do," he bit out, and I heard the pain and sorrow and memories in his voice. "I thought anything could be better then Shi'Gallen, and when I watched the Mage with that other boy, it seemed like such a simple thing . . . I thought no pain could be worse then what I had already felt." He looked at me, but his eyes saw into the past. "I only did it to escape - stupid, STUPID, and while I left Shi'Gallen, I will never, never leave the ag -" a shudder wracked his body as it had earlier. "The agony," he finished, lowering his face into his hands.  
  
I regarded Johen soberly. It was my fault; completely, utterly, without a doubt. Had Johen not been trying to protect me from the royal Yvonhe soldiers, he would never have been taken away in the first place. Never sentenced to what was often referred to as the worst prison on the continent, where not only were the bodies of the prisoners damaged, but also their minds . . . What had happened to Johen? It was better not to ask. I was no soul-doctor, to help him with his past troubles and difficulties. I could only do what I could to help him now.  
  
"I *will* help you," I swore, our eyes meeting. "I have to leave, have to go to Bast . . ."  
  
"With that Seer," Johen said, face and voice angry.  
  
"I have to!" I exclaimed. I continued, quieter, "There is this prophecy, this web of war and good and evil which I am, though Lady forbid, unfortunately completely tangled in. I don't want to be, I don't, but there are foretellings of who I am and what I will do - oh, Johen, I don't know how to explain! He's a Seer, THE Seer, and the rest of them are all royals and Mages or both, and all I want to do is go home to our life with Tari and Dein and live like we used to, but I can't. I am not given a choice."  
  
He looked at me stonily. "There is always a choice."  
  
"Well, yes, but if I chose the wrong thing the world will become corrupt and evil and - well, WRONG. And don't know yet how I'm supposed to prevent that, but if I can, I want to . . .Please Johen," I begged, "PLEASE understand. You're my oldest and closest friend, and I don't want you to turn your back on me and never speak to me again, and I don't care if I'm being selfish, that's what I want. I love you Johen - I don't know right now if it's in a romantic sense or in a brotherly way, but you're the only person whose been there as far back as I can remember. You're my family, Johen; I don't want to lose you."  
  
He was silent for a moment, closing his eyes and clenching his hands. It was over by the time I realized he had suffered from another wave of pain. "You used to know," he said softly, opening his ocean blue eyes. "You used to love me with all your heart, most definitely NOT in a brotherly way. And we always thought that we would be happy together, and live together, and maybe even - you know . . . marry . . ." Johen looked away. "It was you that I followed; you were my only motivation to break away from the prison, you who I followed through this foreign country side until I finally caught up with you here - at this castle -" Now he met his eyes. "And I thought I would be able to overcome this pain, that I could be happy no matter what, because you would be here and everything would be all right, but instead . . . *you're with him*. The Seer, the most powerful man in the kingdom. Young, handsome, powerful, rich . . . He's taken you and turned you into a fine lady, into HIS, into some piece in his prophecy, and he's obviously started to steal your heart as well . . ."  
  
I could only stare at him, brokenly, trying to swallow the tears and not succeeding. He had been wrong about some of the things, wrong about what he'd spoken of Aiven. He had not turned me into a lady, and I certainly was not his . . . but some of the things spoken brought back so many memories. It was only my own fault that I did not know how I loved him now, and he did not deserve my betrayal. Johen was right, we HAD always been together, but now I was not sure how deep it had been, if that was true love, the romantic kind. But i did love him, and I wasn't sure I could live, leaving him alone like this, in pain, and selfishly I did not want him to be angrily with me . . .  
  
"I am sorry," I said, staring at my hands. "Please, Johen, please, I have to go, I WANT to, but don't hate me." The tears slipped out, ungracefully and my broken hiccuping sobs didn't help. "Forgive me."  
  
He watched a second longer, before leaning forward and circling me with his arms. "It's all right Laeli," he murmured. "I might have followed you, but it was never you're fault. It wasn't your fault that I was taken to Shi'Gallen or that I have the Quov'in stone; don't ever think that. I love you Laeli. And you don't need to ask my forgiveness, ever. We a thief- family, and we stick together." He tucked the strands of hair that had gotten loose from my clips and braids behind my ears. "I love you, Laeliena. And I want your love too, but -" here he struggled, as if he didn't want to say the words, "if you love another, well, I wish you happiness." He kissed my cheek, softly, like a butterfly wing. "Go to Bast, Lael. You've always known what was right - now you might as well do it." He smiled crookedly, pulling away. "I wonder how the most powerful Seers and Mages in the world will feel about having a pickpocket in their midst?"  
  
He walked with me to the edge of the kitchen, then we parted with one softer kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye Johen," I whispered softly, smiling at him as I moved away, are eyes holding until I had to climb the tall, carpeted stairs. Somehow we both knew that we would not see each other for a long, long time.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
There were not many more goodbyes for me to make, seeing how I barely knew anyone at court. I found my way to Lord Koilun and Lady Jainalii of Jorins's room, so I could bid farewell to them.  
  
A maid showed me into a beautifully furnished chamber full of different fabrics where Lady Jainalii sat. The pretty brunette looked up from where she sat writing a letter. "Lady Damslae!" she cried in delight, quickly putting her letter in a book and standing up to greet me. "What a delight! How are you, my dear?"  
  
I smiled back at her. Besides her tendency to talk about cloth too much, she was the nicest woman I'd ever met - not that I'd really met many adults that could be classified as "nice," and she was the only truly motherly figure I had met.  
  
"I'm actually leaving," I said. "I am travelling to Bast."  
  
"So soon?" Lady Jainalii said, sounding shocked and disappointed. "I thought you would stay for a week, at least! You have not even seen my collection of exotic silks!"  
  
I smothered a laugh. That was one thing I would not miss. "I'm sorry," I told her straight faced. "But thank you - thank you for - well, everything as we traveled. The dresses, the jewelry," showing me an example of ladies, "I will miss you."  
  
"And I you, my dear," she said, hugging me. "I hope you have a proper escort? The Lord Seer will not be the only one accompanying you, will he?" Though her tone was disapproving, her eyes gleamed with mischief.  
  
I laughed. "No, the second prince shall be there as well, along with a number of servants, I suppose. Good bye," I said again, curtsying.  
  
"Oh, at least take a parting gift," she said, looking around then running into a room and returning with a gown. "Here. Do take it; one of my great aunts made it for my dowry, but the coloring was never good on me, so I never wore it, and now I have far outgrown it."  
  
"Thank you," I said, honestly touched. No one had ever actually given me a parting gift before - with thieves it was more along the line of, "Oh, you're leaving? More victims for me, then."  
  
"The men are out, but i will give hem your regards," Lady Jainalii promised. "I know Kieran will be so sad you have left; you must come and visit him again."  
  
"Of course," I murmured, with no intention of doing so. We made our final goodbyes, and I went to hunt down Mariva, after giving the dress to one of Lady Jainalii's servants to take to my room. I couldn't help wondering what was wrong with all these servants as she did so. If someone handed me a gown obviously worth several old piece, especially if I didn't even work for her, I would be off to the marketplace as fast as my legs could carry me. These girls had better get good wages . . . Shaking my head, I went to Mariva's room. I didn't want to have to say goodbye to her - she seemed like she could become a very lose friend, and I'd like to spend more time with her.  
  
"Mariva? I'm leaving now," I announced as the maid ushered me in - where did all these girls COME from? The palace must have depleted the countryside of all young women within fifty miles in any direction.  
  
Mariva was wearing traveling clothes, a short jacket, and had several bags at her feet. She nodded. "Yes, they should be expecting us soon."  
  
"You're coming too?" I said, surprised.  
  
She laughed, handing her luggage to two servant boys, who took it out the door. "No, I'm just seeing you off. I'm meeting my betrothed there, Corln. Of course I'm coming with you, silly."  
  
A wave of relief washed over me. We WOULDN'T have to say goodbye. And I'd have some pleasant company on the journey to Bast, someone I could really talk to without getting annoyed or flustered, or falling into a particular warm shade of brown eyes . . . Of course, I though, annoyed at myself, I seemed able to do that even when he WASN'T there.  
  
Ten minutes later, the two of us were downstairs, ready to leave for the Bastian Empire. 


	15. The Abella's

A/N: I know I said I'd have this up in two weeks, and it's been four, and I'm BAD! But I really will have the next chapter up in two weeks. And the Abella's DO have a purpose, they aren't just totally random characters. Enjoy!  
  
*************************************  
  
"So," I said to Aiven as I bounced along on Dewdrop, "when will we reach Bast City?" I petted Dewdrop's mane. Despite myself, I was happy to see the mare again. I had lots of good memories concerning her. Well, maybe not lots, exactly. Or good ones, as I always seemed to end up completely sore. They weren't very original memories either, seeing how they were identical.  
  
"In a while," Aiven responded to my brilliant attempt to strike up conversation. We had been riding since noon - or since three, considering the fact that we had stopped for several hours at a famous inn for a nine- course meal. We had been riding for five hours since, and in my opinion it was definitely time for food again. For a nine-course meal, there was surprisingly little that I considered editable. Except for the chocolate cake. That was excellent. I was convinced that I was going to spend the next few nights dreaming about that cake.  
  
"In a while?" I repeated in dismay. "What kind of answer is that? I think you enjoy not directly answering my questions."  
  
Aiven glared at me. "All right," he said, sounding aggravated. "We'll get there in three weeks, two days, six hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fourteen seconds."  
  
I blinked. Perhaps my mind was still dimmed from all that chocolate, as it took me a few moments to realize he was being sarcastic. "You just made that up!" I accused him, as if he might not have noticed. Then I reconsidered. "You did, didn't you? You didn't have a vision or anything about how long it will take us to reach Bast, did you?"  
  
"Of course not," Aiven said, sounding exasperated. "You think our visions are about things that unimportant? Besides, it's too exact. Visions aren't like that."  
  
"But there are all those stories about Seers predicting exactly when a king or whoever will die."  
  
"That's different. That's not time."  
  
"Really? I hadn't noticed." I told him, straight faced.  
  
"Shouldn't you be annoying Lady Mariva with your chatter, not me?" Aiven asked in exasperation.  
  
"It is not *chatter*," I said in as dignified a manner as I could manage.  
  
He fixed me with a hard stare.  
  
"It isn't," I defended myself. "And it's not like I wouldn't rather be with her than you. In case you've forgotten, I've been talking with her all day. She was just called away to talk with her cousin several minutes ago."  
  
"Several long minutes," Aiven muttered. "Why didn't you ask her when we'd reach Bast?"  
  
I chose to ignore that. "And what about dinner?"  
  
Aiven had the look on his face that meant he was seriously considering gagging me. "Dinner," he said in a calm, controlled, I-want-to- kill-you-but-I'm-too-much-of-a-gentleman voice, "will be at Lord Forlakent's manor."  
  
"That's an odd name," I mused. "I wonder -"  
  
"Damslae, do you WANT me to shove a gag in your mouth?!" Aiven exploded. I grinned. Maybe I enjoyed annoying him a little too much.  
  
Suddenly, his mouth tightened and his face paled. "What's the matter?" I asked. He shook his head, opened his mouth, and closed it again. Ooooh. Speechless.  
  
"Nothing," he said tightly. An uncomfortable second passed. "I am sorry for how I addressed you, Lady La -" he snapped his mouth closed. "Princess Laeliena," he finished in a somewhat choked voice, looking straight ahead.  
  
I watched him, a little upset. *Princess* Laeliena? There was no way anyone was referring to me as a princess. Especially Aiven. And, I admitted to myself, I didn't mind him calling me Damslae. He'd always called me that. "I'm not a princess," I told him.  
  
"You shouldn't be," he said, his voice deadpan. "The daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin should not house the reborn soul of Laeliena, Princess of Lahtorli. But as you do, you are. Royalty."  
  
"Everyone says Lahtorli is gone, a nothing kingdom! I can't be princess of something that does not exist!"  
  
"It does!" Aiven countered, sounding angry now. "Princess Laeliena is to try to reawaken her kingdom, her land of the elves and the Faerie and everything that was destroyed. She is to lead a war for the redemption of her kind! There is no way she should be you! Don't you understand? These two prophecies are happening together! Now, and they shouldn't be. They should be spaced hundreds on years apart, but instead they are colliding together, as one, in a single person. You!  
  
"And that may destroy the world!"  
  
I stared at him in shock as he snapped his mouth shut. After several deep breaths, he spoke again. "Forget I said that," he commanded.  
  
"Are you joking? Forget that? But you have to explain. I don't want to lead an army. And why are both prophecies together? And why - why me?" I was dismayed to hear my own voice ask all these questions in a high pitched, nervous tone. Aiven dealt me a long, uninterpretable look. "That," he said in his regal, formal voice, "is what the Seers are trying to discover."  
  
************************************  
  
Several hours later we reached Lord What's-His-Name's house, which was impressive and large, and made my fingers twitch once more. I managed to restrain myself for slipping anyone's possessions into my pocket, though, for fear that whatever had overcome me with the Crown Prince's ring would occur again. It was enough to make me shudder. Except I didn't, because I was too busy playing the part of an aloof and beautiful lady.  
  
The lord's grand hallway fit all of our small party; we included Aiven, myself, Mariva, Prince Tullon, ten knights, six lady-maids, twenty soldiers, and ten servants, rounding us out to the wonderful number of fifty. I didn't think Mariva and I needed three maids each; actually, I thought they would hinder me more then help me dress. But since when does anyone ever care what I think? Never.  
  
Except for occasionally when Aiven actually acted like he wanted my good opinion, but that was so rare and hard to tell that it didn't really count.  
  
The servants were not invited into the hall, though everyone else was. They disappeared to wherever it is servants go, probably to gossip and say mean things about all of us. I found myself wishing I could be with them as I curtsied to the lord. Then - joy - I listened to him fawn all over Aiven and the prince calling them by long, flowery titles, in which the lord talked about himself in the third person.  
  
"And who are these fair flowers of maidenhood?" he asked, bowing low to Mariva and me. "Your most majestic Highness and Lord Seer, will you not allow this most devoted of your servants the names of such a perfect example of the bloom of noble ladies and chastity?"  
  
I would have preferred a simple, "Who are you?" And where did the "chastity" part come from?  
  
"Lady Damslae of Brientlon, and Lady Mariva of Cillyon," Aiven said briefly, obviously not caring to emphasize Mariva's titles as he could have - or mine for that matter, but apparently it was suppose to be a secret. My being a princess, that is. And the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin. I wondered idly if I was ever going to learn exactly who she was. Was I her daughter of blood, or spirit, or what? Had she been human at some time? And why would she just abandon me on the streets of Cyri?  
  
"My ladies, this humble lord cannot express his joy and delight to be so honored -" I stopped listening. Flowery language is for flowers, and humans have no business speaking it. I did not want to hear the man ramble on and on about what anyone else could say with a "Pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Wake up," Aiven said several minutes later from the side of his mouth, hitting me with an elbow. I startled little, and looked around. The lord was leaning back in his chair, looking mighty pleased with his ability to refer to himself as "this most devoted of your servants."  
  
"Is he done?" I murmured back.  
  
"Yes," Aiven said, after glancing at the lord, who was giving his servants some instructions. "I think we might actually be able to go to our chambers now."  
  
That, of course, would be too easy. Relax? Oh no. We had to meet the lord's daughters. "Ah," the lord said, waving his arms as two tall blondes entered. "Allow this most adoring lord to introduce the two most dazzling blossoms in his life."  
  
They were identical twins, it was easy to tell. Blond upswept hair bound in a high bun and a cascade of curls. Both of them had wide, gray eyes and three freckles on their left cheekbone arranged in a triangle. I frowned, studying it. Maybe it was a birthmark instead.  
  
They were also, to my disgust, dressed the same as well. The twins wore long, virginal white gowns along with lacey gloves no one ever wore anymore. Pearls dangled from their earlobes and necklaces. They looked pristine and pure, especially with their wide eyes and virtuous expression. They were the type of girls who made other girls feel dirty and crude in contrast.  
  
"Twins?" Aiven muttered to me. "I HATE twins."  
  
"Why?" I asked. While I wasn't inclined to like these ones, I had known some in Cyri. And it was an established fact that twins made excellent confusing thieves.  
  
"If I show favor to one in any way, I have to show it to the other. Or worse, I say something indiscreet to one which I meant to say to the other and then all sorts of things happen." He grimaced. I smiled over at the blondes as if to say, "take that. He doesn't like twins!"  
  
Not that I would of cared if he did, of course. For that to work, I would have to be interested in Aiven.  
  
"My daughters," the lord said, dropping the annoying third person speech. "Isabella and Annabella, my pride and joy."  
  
They dropped curtsies in sync, causing Mariva and I to exchange envious glances over their skills. We weren't talented enough to drop identical curtsies at the same time.  
  
"Your Highness, Lord Seer," they said in unison. They had the annoying beautiful, bell-like voices that perfectly matched their physical perfection.  
  
Tullon and Aiven greeted the ladies in solemn, we-have-a-very- important-mission voices, and kissed the twins in hands.  
  
"They're all acting sickeningly noble," Mariva whispered to be as everyone else was caught up being courtly.  
  
"I know. It makes me want to do something completely outrageous," I responded.  
  
The entire dinner was like that; annoying compliments, gallant behavior, and despite Aiven saying he hated twins, he obviously did not hate these two. Then there was the father with his terribly obvious matchmaking attempts, and the girls fluttering their lashes an unhealthy number of times.  
  
"They're either really stupid, or really clever," I whispered to Mariva as we watched them daintily eat their food.  
  
"Probably clever. It would be to simple if they were idiots."  
  
We were finally able to beg fatigue and escape to the room we were sharing; a room with the theme of silver and pink, that made Mariva and I blanch as we crossed the threshold.  
  
"It doesn't match your hair," my friend told me seriously as I flopped down on the pale pink bed.  
  
"This whole place doesn't match ME," I groaned.  
  
"That's because you're jealous of the Abella's," Mariva said smugly.  
  
"I am NOT," I said with a glare. "Why would I be jealous?" Well, THAT was a stupid question.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Mariva rolled her eyes. "Maybe because Aiven was paying an abnormal amount of attention to them."  
  
"I don't care," I started to say, but stopped short when the door opened to reveal one of the twins.  
  
"My ladies?" she said in a soft, musical voice. I watched as she took small steps into our room, that stupid white dress she wore restraining her movements. I wondered if she and her twin always wore the same clothes, or if it was just tonight. She smiled at us in that perfect, charming matter she had used with Aiven earlier that evening. Her pale, unblemished face looked earnest as she looked at us. "Are you well?"  
  
Mariva and I glanced at each other, then instantly contrived to look tired. "Only tired," Mariva said in a quiet voice with a gentle smile.  
  
"Well, I won't keep you awake any longer," the twin said, smiling back. "How long will your journey be?"  
  
See girl, I thought in annoyance, NOT keeping us awake any longer requires you not to ask questions, and to go away.  
  
"Several weeks," Mariva said.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To Bast," I told her.  
  
She nodded. "'Tis a lovely city. I envy that you are to see it."  
  
Yeah, so we can be involved in a war that might involve the end of the world. I envy me too.  
  
"Fare thee well on your journey," the lady said, curtsying to us. Mariva and I exchanged glances. Fare thee well?  
  
"You must be visiting the king in Bast, are you not?" she asked us, titling her head slightly.  
  
"We are," I murmured, glancing pointedly at the clock.  
  
"Oh, I do wish I could meet him."  
  
Mariva and I glanced at each other, then back at the girl who showed no inclination of moving. "I'll see my betrothed also," Mariva mentioned in an I-don't-really-feel-like-telling-you-this-but-I-have-nothing-else-to-say voice.  
  
"Oh?" the Abella said, perking up. "How delightful! Who is he?"  
  
"The Lord Seer of Bast," Mariva muttered, a little smile dancing on her lips.  
  
"You must be so happy to be seeing him. I would love to be engaged to a Seer!" She looked expectantly at Mariva.  
  
"Yes, it is," Mariva said. "I love him very much."  
  
"Splendid!" the Abella exclaimed. "And he loves you?" she pressed, her eyes wide.  
  
"He does," Mariva said, nodding gravely. I rolled my eyes. I had no patience for this sort of mindless chatter. Odd; neither of the twins had seemed so empty headed at dinner.  
  
"Splendid," she murmured again, eyelashes lowering and a small smile curving her lips. She looked up at us. "My apologies, for this must seem a silly question, but which of the royal twins was it that accompanies you?"  
  
"My cousin, His Royal Highness Prince Tullon, the Mage-Prince."  
  
The girl's eyes flashed. "Your cousin?" she asked, then turned to me. "Are you of the same fabulous bloodlines, my lady?"  
  
Did I really have to talk with this girl? I was bored to tears, and just wanted her to leave so I could go to sleep. "My blood is not quite so exalted," I said, not managing to dig up one of the polite smiles Mariva had been serving all evening. Instead I felt the overwhelming urge to scare the girl away with tales of my less then luxurious childhood.  
  
"Who were your parents?" she asked me, blinking her eyes and looking remarkably like a lost doe.  
  
"Two nobles," I said in exasperation. I gentled my voice. "I am sorry, my lady, but I can feel this journey has simply exhausted me. I would hate to fall unconscious in the middle of conversing with you, so I feel it would be best if I would retire at this moment." What can I say? Being sleepy makes me talk in long, winding sentences.  
  
"But of course. A good night to the both of you." With another curtsy, she was gone.  
  
"She was weird," Mariva whispered, and I nodded.  
  
"Yeah - and way too nosy." For a minute or too we mulled over her strange behavior, but our trip really did catch up to us, and we were asleep in three minutes.  
  
************************************  
  
I woke up early the next day, before the sun had risen, before Mariva was up. I slipped out of bed after lying there for half an hour, and made my way down to the dining hall. The servants were already up and moving about the corridors, preparing for yet another day in which they pretended they didn't exist the snobby nobles and there equally snobby guests, which unfortunately included me.  
  
I collided into one servant girl turning a corner, who gave me an aghast look and fell into a curtsy, squeaking out apologies. I pulled the frightened girl to her feet and told her no, I was not going to report her and have her dismissed. I sighed in frustration. Why did everyone have to think I was a noble? I wasn't. I didn't even LIKE nobles. I had spent most of my life hating them for their money and their arrogance and their behavior, and now all the normal people - commoners - though I WAS one. It wasn't pleasant.  
  
Of course, it was a little fun having the kind of people who had looked down their noses at an lying, cheating thief smile and curtsy to me now. But still. It was way too weird.  
  
I reached the dining hall, still wishing no one thought I was a noble. I was a normal person. A thief. End of story. Except for the fact that thieves usually didn't wear velvet clothes and jewels like I had been wearing recently.  
  
Servants bustled about, setting tables and bringing in flowers. They stopped and turned as one when I entered, and most faded away into the background. Only one older, balding man stepped forward.  
  
"Lady," he said, bowing awkwardly. "How may I help you?"  
  
I was a little bit unnerved by the servants' behavior. "Uh - is there a garden here? That I can walk around in?"  
  
The man nodded and showed me through two hallways. Bowing again, he left me at an open archway that led into a well-tended garden. I walked along one path, stopping to look at the flowers and smelling them, until I turned a corner and saw one of the Abella's.  
  
"My lady," she said. "Good morning." She curtsied to me.  
  
I curtsied back. "And a good morning to you," I said politely.  
  
"I trust you slept well?"  
  
"I did. Thank you."  
  
We continued on, side by side, the Abella with a thoughtful look on her face. Not air-headed at all, I concluded. The twins might act that way at times - like this one or her sister had last night - but for some reason I was convinced they were smarter then they let on.  
  
She definitely wasn't letting on this morning, I thought as she began to chatter on about the flowers. This Abella seemed to know as much about flowers as Lady Jainalii knew about cloth. I listened without saying anything until her tone changed to a curious one, and she asked, "Where are you going, your company?"  
  
So she wasn't the same Abella from last night. I had been wondering.  
  
"Father told us we weren't to ask," the blond continued, casting a sidelong look at me, "so of course I'm dying to know. I'll understand if you don't tell me . . ." her voice trailed off as she saw my expression. I'm sure it wasn't a happy one.  
  
"Your sister asked me last night, and I told her." In fact, Mariva and I had probably said more then we should have, but we hadn't really thought about it.  
  
An odd look passed over the Abella's face. "Did you tell her anything . . . important?"  
  
I shrugged irritably. "Probably."  
  
The girl looked like she was treading on thin ice. "My lady, my sister . . . It is best not to say that much to her. She is not exactly to be trusted."  
  
I looked at her sharply. "And why is that?"  
  
She didn't explain; instead we were interrupted by a maid who called out to us, informing us breakfast was read, if we pleased.  
  
What if we didn't please?  
  
So, I thought unhappily as we walked inside, her sister wasn't trustworthy. Fabulous. And I didn't even know whether her sister was Isabella or Annabella. I'd have to ask her who she was, though I'd tried to avoid it; it was embarrassing confessing I didn't know whom I'd been talking to all morning. I didn't get the chance to ask her as we were swept apart as soon as we entered the dining hall.  
  
Great, I thought as I watched her join her twin. I won't be able to tell them apart later in the day either. They're wearing identical clothes again. 


	16. A Gift

I was seated on the left of Prince Tullon, who sat at the left of Lord Forlakent. Mariva sat across from me, next to Aiven, and the Abella's were seated one next to me, and one next to Mariva. Everyone smiled very politely at each other, nodding and mouthing compliments and greetings as we began an elaborate breakfast, far worse then the ones at Court. There, everyone was at least subtle in their attempts to gain favor from the rich and powerful; or at least, the few nobles I'd met were.  
  
All right, I can count the Court breakfasts I've had on one hand, but it certainly seemed like they were less fawning.  
  
Lord Forlakent was over-agreeable, and there was more food at that first-meal then at any of the others I'd had. Give me a roll, some fruit, and liquid chocolate and I was set. Those items were more luxuries then anything I was aquatinted with.  
  
And although he served us four courses, the hot chocolate was watered down. It was downright insulting.  
  
I barely had time to notice that the noble's drink wasn't as nice as usual before my attention was caught by the flirting glances from the twins to Aiven and Tullon. Mariva raised her eyebrows in amusement as I discreetly pantomimed flinging a spoonful of soup onto one of the ladies creamy velvet gown. It would probably stain, though, so I resisted. After all, the world would surely end if some rich noble's gown was ruined.  
  
"Mariva," the Abella next to me said, "His Highness tells me you are interested in paintings from the Callaen Dynasty. We are honored to have two painting from then. Would you like to see them?"  
  
Mariva and I exchanged glances. Mariva did love to see the rare painting from five hundred years ago, most of which had been burned for a reason that I did not know or care about. She nodded at the Abella, smiling politely. "I would love to see them," she said in a neutral voice.  
  
When breakfast ended, she we stood together, ready to follow the Abella to the paintings. But the other twin turned to me and invited me to see the jewels her family owned in such a polite way that I just had to agree.  
  
All right, maybe the reason I agreed was because Aiven sent me a sharp glare as I opened my mouth to decline.  
  
Mariva followed one Abella from the hall, and I followed the other in the opposite direction. Our footsteps echoed quietly in the empty corridors as the Abella led me to the jewels. I wondered which one she was; the curious, rather empty headed twin from last night, or the girl in the garden.  
  
We entered a small, yet luxurious room, where we stopped side by side. It was well lit by a wall of windows facing the sun. Across from the windows was a display of glittering jewels, strategically placed to catch the sunlight. My eyes drifted over them, carefully half shut and my expression politely interested.  
  
The Abella began to talk about them in a cheerful, happy voice. I half listened, looking at the different jewels and wondering if there was a particular reasons the two Abella's had separated Mariva and me, or if I was just being paranoid. My gaze swept the jewels. It stopped at a particularly lovely pair of earrings and bracelets. Elven made, certainly. Tari would love them.  
  
Would I ever see her or Dein again? I wondered, eyes fixed on the jewelry. I had not thought to see Johen, but I had. What had happened to Tari and her brother? Did they know what had happened to Johen and me?  
  
I realized that the Abella had stopped speaking. I glanced at her to see her staring through an archway into an open hall. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "Would you mind terribly if I left you alone for a moment?" She smiled apologetically.  
  
I nodded, and she darted through the arch. I returned to admiring the jewelry; there were three other elven made pieces, one by a famous sculpture. He had a new approach; the jade horses he had carved looked like it was rearing in the wind, mane whipping back and forth -  
  
"I apologize for leaving you," the Abella said, re-entering the room. She noticed the direction of my gaze. "Do you like the elven jewels?"  
  
I nodded. "They are beautiful. I especially admire the silver and emerald bracelets and earrings."  
  
She smiled. "There is a pair of ruby earrings that compliment them. I would be honored if you accept the gift. They are not of elven craft, but they are still lovely." She went to one of the cases and drew out a box. Opening it, she offered the earrings inside to me.  
  
They glistened, the tiny facets on them reflecting a thousand beams of sunlight. "They're a gift?" I asked, looking down at them. "You don't want anything for them?"  
  
The Abella looked startled, probably at my unladylike question. I was too used to people only giving me things for a price to expect seemingly random gifts from unknown nobility. "No," she hurriedly assured me. "I do not want anything. They are a gift to you."  
  
You do want something, I thought. You want me to mention this gift to the prince or the lord Seer so they'll look favorably towards you, whoever you are. "Thank you -" I paused deliberately, giving in to the urge to actually find out whom I was talking to.  
  
"Oh, I'm Isabella," she told me with a laugh. "It is ever so hard to keep track of twins, is it not?"  
  
Maybe, I thought, she was the twin from upstairs. She was using fancy sentences - but she didn't seem anymore empty-headed then either of the twins had at breakfast. Maybe they were really both deep and only pretended to be superficial to confuse people.  
  
Right.  
  
The earrings were pretty, however, and though I had no intentions of mentioning them to anyone but Mariva, I took them with a smile.  
  
"Would you like to see the garden? It is beautiful, and has several rare plants in it. I think you would enjoy it."  
  
So she was the Abella from last night, and Annabella was the one I met in the morning, who had warned me not to tell her sister that much. Well, I didn't plan on telling either of them that much.  
  
"Oh!"  
  
Both Isabella and I turned around to see the other Abella in the archway. Her eyes flicked from me to her twin and back again.  
  
"Hello Anna," the twin with me said. She frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be with Mariva?"  
  
"I - I just left her for a second. Father did, after all, tell us to give parting gifts and I need to get one." Her eyes fastened on the earrings in my hand, and she also frowned. "Oh, Is, you're not giving her THOSE are you?"  
  
"I am," Isabella said steadily.  
  
"Well, I won't let you dishonor the house with such a poor gift," Annabella sniffed. She wandered eerily over to the emerald and silver bracelets and earrings. "Wouldn't you like these instead?" she offered.  
  
How about you just give me everything? I thought, amused as the sisters glared at each other.  
  
"Well, wouldn't you like these better?" Annabella said again, taking the elven jewelry in her hands and extending it towards me.  
  
"They are both beautiful," I murmured. Hah! My first diplomatic court saying!  
  
The twins stared hard at each other, as if they were silently trying to wear the other down. It had never worked for me; but then, maybe it was because I got bored before my staring opponent did.  
  
"Take these," Annabella said, thrusting he silver and emerald jewelry into my hands and taking the ruby earrings away as I watched in bemusement. "I think I'll stay with Lady Damslae, Isabella," she said to her sister. "Why don't you go see Lady Mariva?"  
  
Isabella smirked, then curtsied to me. She flounced out of the room, leaving Annabella and I alone.  
  
After a few minutes of fake conversation where Annabella kept sneaking sidelong glances at me, she finally said, "My twin - she is - well, as I said earlier, not very trustworthy."  
  
I leaned back against the tables full of jewels. "Why not?" I asked.  
  
Annabella hesitated. "She talks too much," she said finally, which told me absolutely nothing at all, and with that we went back to the main hall.  
  
**********************  
  
I think everyone was glad to get away from Lord Forlakent's manor. I certainly was - if I had to spend another minute with Isabella or Annabella I would scream. I was much happier to spend my days on horseback.  
  
Mariva and I spent the first four days of the journey talking away every second. I hardly spoke to anyone else, as Aiven and Tullon were busy being deep in thought and the knights preferred looking at us to seeing if we actually knew how to converse. The maids and other servants were to awed by Mariva's status as niece of the king and betrothed to the Bastian Seer to approach her. I had absolutely no idea how they viewed me, but they left be alone as well. I didn't care; Mariva and I had more then enough to talk about.  
  
She told me about being raised at court, about the jewels and servants, the intrigues and plots. She told me about meeting the Lord Seer C -, and about her parents' neglect. She filled in all the details I'd never known, fascinating things that I would never have guessed by just seeing the money loaded nobles of Cyri.  
  
In turn, I told her about my life in Yvonhe's capital, about the hunger, the fear of rival thieves and assassins. I told her of the half elven Tari and Dein, and about Johen. One night I even, haltingly, told her about Prince Praithan, my banishment, and the guards. She listened silently, sympathy but no pity on her face. When I finished, she hugged me, tears in her eyes. Sitting back on our beds, we slept.  
  
****************  
  
On the fifth day, Aiven pulled me aside and to the front of our column early in the afternoon.  
  
"Hello again," I said brightly. I hadn't really spoken more then five sentences to him we'd left Forlakent's manor.  
  
"Hello."  
  
I waited a minute, but he didn't add anything else. "Didn't you want to say something?" I encouraged, looking at him expectantly.  
  
Aiven glanced at me, then stared straight ahead. "We are going to be at war," he said, jaw clenched.  
  
I swiveled my head and stared at him in mock astonishment. "Really?!" I exclaimed. "So *that's* why everyone's so edgy!"  
  
He glared at me. "I am TRYING to explain what is going on. Unless you don't want to hear?" I rolled my eyes at him, but nodded. "Well. We are, as you know, going to Bast, where the Council will meet. The Council is a gathering of the younger Seers, the High Nobility with mage-blood, the Highest nobles, and the strongest mages. There are about five hundred members of the Council. There is then the High Council, which consists of the twenty Seers attending, ten mage Nobility, the strongest ten Mages, and ten members or representatives of the highest courts in the land. The Council will be the soldiers of this war, along with other all the other mages and Seers that will join us. People without magic will have no need to fight. The battles we fight will be on physical battlefields, but our weapons will be our minds more often then swords."  
  
"And . . ." I hesitated when asking this question. "If it comes to normal people and soldiers, how many will fight?"  
  
He didn't answer for a moment; instead in stared off into the distance, reminding me of a hero in the ballads Mariva had convinced me to read. His eyes seemed to glaze slightly, and I jerked Dewdrop to a stop, afraid he would prophesize.  
  
"Whoever can fight," he said, his voice still normal, if grim. "They have thousands who will fight completely for them, willingly or coerced, and weapons we do not understand. If it comes to ordinary people fighting - hopefully it will not. We also have thousands who will fight for us; mages and companies of kings' soldiers. If we need to pull ordinary foot soldiers, peasants and anyone other then the most elite of forces - then the entire world will be turned into a battleground. Perhaps," he said in a speculating voice, looking at me again, "we will even have the fairies and the elves to help us."  
  
I didn't heat that last part; I was too busy concentrating on the battles he had spoken of. "Will you fight?" I asked in an embarrassingly small voice, eyes focused on a patch of moss below me.  
  
"I should be in the first battles," he said in an unexpectedly angry voice. "I should be in the first wave that goes up against the enemies. I have earned that right with my visions and my knowledge. I should raise my sword on the first battle on the field of Canora, or at least See the armies movement there."  
  
I looked at him in surprise. He wanted to fight in the first battle? To be one of those most likely to die? And even though he was willing to do this . . . "You don't get to," I stated. "Why aren't you allowed to fight?"  
  
"Why do you think, *Princess*?" he asked bitterly. I was startled; I didn't think I had ever heard him bitter before. "I found you, I discovered you, so now I have to stay with you. Since I found you, I am trapped with the job of looking after you every second and making sure you don't do something incredibly stupid, which many of the Great Seers agreed you would try to do if you were allowed to. If you die, are captured, disappear, run away, try to be difficult -"  
  
"What happens if I decide to be difficult?"  
  
"Then I will persuade you not to," he said harshly.  
  
That sounded cheery.  
  
"If ANYTHING happens to you at all, it makes this war much more . . . difficult."  
  
"How difficult?" I asked curiously.  
  
He dealt me a hard glare. "We lose the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter. We lose the protection, the healing. We lose the assurance that no matter what happens there will be some safety. We lose everything that comes with the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin, the powers, the edge over the other side. Not to mention the fact that we would lose the *Princess Laeliena of Lahtorli* who is not even supposed to EXIST for another several hundred years. If you die then Lahtorli will never be united, and the elves and fairies will be strewn throughout the land. They have waited for you for thousand of years, waited for your rebirth. And Lahtorli's princess is the Shien, who definitely should not exist now. The only way for that to be possible would be for the Shien to be the Saint and NOT Laeliena, though we have already proved that is impossible. So you must be the Shien, and you must be kept alive to restore Lahtorli, or the course of history that we plan for will completely be changed -"  
  
"That you plan for?" I said sharply. "What, do you manipulate time so that it works to your advantage?"  
  
"It is our -" he broke off, mouth tightening, and he looked away. When he turned back, though, he was reluctantly grinning at me. "You probably know more then any other mor - normal human about Seer's and our prophecies. You don't need to know more."  
  
"So you DO try to control time," I concluded thoughtfully, gazing at Aiven.  
  
He refused to answer.  
  
"You have to stay with me," I said, backtracking. "So I suppose you and your Seers are planning to control my life forever? I suppose you'll be at my side my entire life?"  
  
Despite my slightly joking tone, his face was completely serious. "Until one of us dies," he answered solemnly.  
  
Well, that certainly answered the question.  
  
"And I have no choice?"  
  
He groaned, as if he was tired of being the Seer and just wanted to go be a young, irresponsible lord. "Do you really WANT the world to end up in complete darkness and horror?"  
  
"Only if it will annoy you," I said brightly, and to my surprise, he grinned.  
  
"Almost anything you do will annoy me somehow," he agreed. "You seem to delight in -"  
  
"Aiven!"  
  
Both of us glanced over to where Prince Tullon was. He was riding toward us. "Have you forgotten about lunch?" he asked once he had reached our side.  
  
Aiven looked surprised for a moment. "Oh. Lunch. Of course."  
  
Tullon laughed. "Unlike you, SOME of us need to eat." He turned to me and made a bow, which was one of the most impressive things I had seen him do, considering we were in horseback. "Would you honor me with your presence, my lady? I've been meaning to ask you about your magic, but my cousin's been monopolizing your time."  
  
I looked at him quizzically. "My magic?"  
  
"The rain," he explained. "In the garden a week ago. The Princess Laeliena is supposed to have some unusual powers, after all."  
  
"I am?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
Sometimes, I thought, I felt like shouting, Surprise! I'm really NOT the Princess of Lahtorli or the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter, I'm just a thief! Life would be so much easier . . . Mariva and Aiven had explained to me what they knew, or felt I should know, about my position in things, but it felt like they were talking about someone else. The daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin and the princess of Lahtorli had so many prophesies concerning them that it gave me a headache trying to put them all together.  
  
Sometimes I wished so much that I was still on the streets of Cyri, darting my hands into nobles' pockets and laughing with Johen, Tari, Dein, and the rest of our group.  
  
And then other times I wanted to be everything I was told that I was, live up to these nobles expectations and more so, prove I was worth more then a kid off the back alleys . . .  
  
Most of the time, though, I was happy. It startled me to think about that; we were on the edge of war, I was forced into being two people I knew nothing about, yet I was happy.  
  
I also would have a bleeding brain if I tried to puzzle out my life anymore.  
  
"Damslae," Aiven called as I began to follow Tullon back to the main column. I turned Dewdrop back alongside Aiven, and looked at him inquiringly.  
  
"I -" he began, then looked away from me, seemingly at a lost for words. I swallowed a smile. There was probably something mean about being amused when Aiven didn't know what to say, but it happened so rarely to him that I felt it was practically my duty to enjoy it when it happened.  
  
"I know how much you liked the jewelry Lord Forlakent gave you," he said with a smile. "And I know you must be suffering from stealing things withdrawal -"  
  
"You think just because I'm traveling with nobility that I've given up stealing?" I said indignantly. "Don't be ridiculous." I fingered by newly acquired silk ribbon in my hair and grinned.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "All right, I WISH you'd given up stealing - and you will within a month - and so I got you something.  
  
I was too interested in what it was then arguing about his pathetic idea of me giving up stealing in a month. He reached into one of his riding coat's pockets and drew out a package wrapped in silk. I unwrapped it slowly, staring down at the necklace in my hands. Strands of silver were woven with perfect, tiny pearls in am unusual pattern.  
  
"Thank you," I said softly, forcing the unfamiliar words out.  
  
Aiven shrugged. "It's been sitting around for awhile, and I certainly can't wear it. I had to give it to someone."  
  
I smiled slightly, watching him. For something that had been "sitting around for a while," he was watching me very carefully to see if I liked it. 


	17. The Bastian Empire

All right. Finally, a chapter. And it only took - um, a long time. It's sorta random sometimes, but oh well. Oh, and it anyone didn't get it - the necklace? The one Aiven gives Laeliena at the end of the last chapter? Everyone pull out your Ella Enchanted. It's the necklace that Ella gets from her mother, the one Hattie takes. Yeah. (Happy birthday Dinah! Deena? Dina? Diana? Well, you.^_^) Enjoy!  
  
**************************************************************************** ****  
  
Bast. The Golden Empire. City of Riches.  
  
It was a huge, sprawling capital, far bigger than Cyri, and three, maybe four times the size of Lonyar, Sontái's capital. Three times the Bastian Emperor's had tried to build walls to contain their city, but it always kept growing. Now the walls contained different districts. Inside the first circle was the original size of the capital, as big as Lonyar, with palace and grounds, the nobles' district, the rich commoners and the famous market. Rich gardens and courtyards decorated this well kept center. Inside the second wall the middle class lived, with many more markets, inns and gambling places then the more aristocratic center. Beyond the second wall, contained by the third, was a mix of middle class cityfolk and different ethnic cultures who liked to live near each other in this great city. Beyond the last wall, it was anyone's guests, with dark twisting allies of the thieves mixed with opulent city homes of nobles who could not it within the first wall.  
  
I stared down at what I could see of the city from atop the hill we had stopped at. I could make out the tall, splendid palace on the horizon, at the center of the city. Many turrets and balconies stuck out from it, in particular two graceful towers that arched high into the sky, connected by bridges.  
  
Aiven brought his horse alongside Dewdrop as I drunk it all in. "Impressed?" he asked.  
  
Before I had a chance to answer, a party of about two dozen thundered up to us. "Aiven!" cried the young man in the lead. "Imagine seeing you here," he said with a grin.  
  
"Managed to escape Kavahtar, I see," Aiven said, leaning away from his horse to grasp the other youth's hand in welcome.  
  
"Harder then you'd expect. I thought the old man would die on the spot and I'd have to safeguard his knowledge until his successor is found."  
  
I looked at the newcomer, frowning. Something seemed familiar about him, a little bit different from everyone else . . . My eyes widened in realization and I could have hit myself at the obvious answer. He was a Seer - the familiar air he had was like Aiven - that of a not quite normal person. And Aiven had told me there would be a gathering of many Seers in Bast.  
  
Aiven turned and gestured at me. Ah, so I hadn't been forgotten, I thought as I nudged Dewdrop up to them.  
  
"I've brought a guest," Aiven said with a small grin on his face. "This is -" he hesitated, as if not sure how to explain me now that he'd brought me up. "Who we've been looking for," he said softly.  
  
The other Seer started, staring at me. "You mean - Her daughter?" he asked, eyes never leaving my face. He looked absolutely stunned.  
  
"Yes," Aiven said. "I found her."  
  
The youth's look slowly turned to an expression I didn't recognize, but seemed to be a cross between awe and amusement. "Did you?" he said, hitting Aiven's shoulder. "Imagine that! Our warrior!" Aiven frowned at him, but the Seer only laughed.  
  
I looked from Aiven to the other Seer in confusion, but Aiven just shook his head a little, so I swallowed my questions. For now.  
  
The other Seer was laughing his head off at the moment, whether at me or at Aiven I wasn't quite sure. He looked like he would be awed if he could just stop laughing for a moment.  
  
"Damslae," Mariva said from behind me, and giving Aiven and his friend a parting glare, I moved Dewdrop next to her mare. "Look at them," she told me, nodding towards a group of men and woman who had ridden up to meet us. Aiven immediately greeted them, and after a few words they surrounded us. My brows shot up. Exactly why did we need an armed guard when entering a friendly city?  
  
Mariva giggled when I mentioned this. "They're an honor guard, silly," she said, hitting my shoulder. Oh. That DID make more sense.  
  
I looked curiously around me as we rode through the different distracts of the city. As we neared the royal palace, our horses were taken away and we were separated into different groups. But when Mariva and I learned we were being split up, we stubbornly refused.  
  
"But my ladies," the servant speaking to us said a little nervously faced with our defiant looks, "royalty always gathers in the southern wing, and the Lord Seer Aiven was most insistent that you," he nodded to me, "be placed in the Cavor'shin Tower."  
  
"I'm only cousin to royalty, not actually royalty," Mariva protested, while at the same time I said, "Well, I'm sort of royalty as well. I mean, I am. A princess." The servant didn't understand a word either of us said, and just looked worriedly from one of us to the other.  
  
Mariva sighed. "Well, we might as well just do what they want for now. We'll fix the arrangements tonight - I just have to complain to Tullon -"  
  
"And I'll complain to Aiven," I finished, and we allowed to separate servants to show away.  
  
***  
  
Two towers rose in front of me, the ones I had seen from the hill, made of glistening white marble streaked with black. I stopped a moment to stare at them, the maid showing me to my temporary quarters continuing onwards. The peaked tips were capped in gold. The towers reached higher then any other part of the Bastian castle. Five bridges spanned the distance between the towers, made part of marble and part of thick, finely made glass. I could see people walking above them, far above my head.  
  
"M'lady?" The maid had finally turned back to me and noticed my awe- struck gaze. Apparently used to the looks, she sighed and rattled off in a much repeated tone, "These are the Cavor'shin Towers, built half a millennia ago by King Cavor'shin the first. They are made of marble cut across the seas, and mages have cast spells of protection and defense on them - they are often called the Indestructible Towers. They are now used as guest quarters for important guests to the realm." With that, she began to walk towards the towers again, and I followed.  
  
At the door the maid handed me over, like so much baggage, to another servant. With a bow, the man led me up a narrow, circular staircase in the center of the tower. We finally stopped at a doorway, my legs aching as I panted for breath. "I don't suppose," I gasped, wondering why they made honored guest climb the wretched thing, "that there's an easier way up."  
  
"The Mage-Way, of course," the man responded, also out of breath. He looked like he wanted to collapse. "Most take it."  
  
"Is there a reason we didn't?" I complained.  
  
He gave me a startled look, probably not used to guests actually speaking - or surprised at my ignorance. "You must a Mage token, for permission."  
  
I made a mental note to yell at Aiven about this when I saw him.  
  
The servant let me into my room, then gave me the key. The room was tastefully and richly decorated in a soft purple hue, with a little table fountain on a - surprise - table. Its quiet burbling made a soothing noise. There was an elegant bed, large table, dresser, closet and two armchairs before a fireplace. A bookshelf stood against one wall, holding several different books, and on another wall was a view of the city. Looking down on it in the middle of the day, it was a huge, bustling place, but none of the noises or smells reached me in my room. Off through a side door there was a bathing chamber, complete with several different fragrances and thick white towel emblazed with the Emperor's crest.  
  
It was the definition of "pleasant" and that unnerved me somewhat.  
  
Aside from the fact that it was entirely too perfect, there was the fact that it didn't seem like Aiven would be here either. Where was he going to be? "I'll see you tonight," he'd said. It was early afternoon. Did he actually expect me to sit in my room all day?  
  
I'd find Aiven, I decided, and he would tell me where Mariva was. Even if I had no idea how to find Aiven, it was better then sitting here doing nothing.  
  
I left the room, hanging the key on a thread I pulled from the rug and hanging it around my neck, under my gown. Closing the door, I ventured up the stairs. I wasn't more then half way up yet, and though I didn't know what I was looking for I figured I'd find something.  
  
I did. One door I passed was more elaborate then the others, with curling carvings on the frame. "Communal room" it said, and I pushed the door open.  
  
"Excuse me," I said as I entered, almost knocking the door into what looked like a foreign noble. I moved away from the door and took the view in. The room was huge, taking up that entire level of the tower, excepting the core that was the staircase. The room was beautiful, with a creamy tiled stone floor and clusters of couches, tables, and bookshelves scattered about. Large windows afforded a magnificent view of the Emperor's castle, and the rest of the royal city. I stared at it a moment before gazing around the room for someone I knew, preferably Aiven.  
  
The room felt like a ballroom, despite all the furniture. The airy style of everything, the richly dressed people talking, it all gave it an elegant feel. I slowly began to walk around the room, avoiding guests and the servants that circulated with platters of food and drinks. I must have walked around the room three times when one of the servants approached me.  
  
He bowed slightly. "My lady," he said formally, "may I help you find something?"  
  
Let me guess, I thought sarcastically, irritated that I hadn't found anyone, I'm ruining the atmosphere with my pacing. "I was looking for one of the Seers," I told him.  
  
He kept his face masked, giving me another bow. "The Seers' keep their rooms in the second tower," he said politely, but firmly. I got the feeling he thought I was looking for a Seer to gain myself prestige and power if he became attached to me.  
  
"Would you tell me how to get over there?" I asked, now slightly amused. To no surprise, he did the little bow again before he answered.  
  
"My lady, the Seers wish not to be interrupted while they stay in their accommodations. If you wish to meet them, I can certainly give you a schedule of events of public ceremonies they will be present at . . ."  
  
"Can you give one a message for me?"  
  
He still bowed, but for a moment his eyes showed disapproval. "I am afraid they do not wish to be disturbed, my lady."  
  
"Look, I came to Bast with a Seer, along with a prince and his cousin. And I really need to talk to the Seer right now. I won't be disturbing him, trust me. We've known each other for a while. Please, can I speak with him?"  
  
"I am sorry, my lady, but without a Mage or Seer token no one is to be allowed entry to the second tower." He didn't bow.  
  
I REALLY needed to get one of the tokens.  
  
I left the communal room and went down the staircase, feeling annoyed. Down a few curves, a few more steps - I was at one of the doors I had noticed when I went up the stairs, a door to one of the bridges.  
  
It was locked, to no surprise, and I had none of my old lockpicks with me. It probably would be locked with magic as well as mechanics, knowing my luck. Pointlessly, I tried to turn the doorknob, wondering if there was another way to the second tower.  
  
Windows.  
  
I looked over the idea in my head. There were windows on the tower, I knew that; if one was located looking down on the bridge I could climb out of it, crawl across the curved top of the walkway, and through a window on the other side. The height didn't bother me, nor did the danger; I had seen enough in Cyri to be used to them.  
  
Still, it was very high. Did I *really* want to get to Aiven that badly?  
  
Why not, I though a second later. It wasn't like I had anything else to do.  
  
***  
  
Several minutes later I was staring down at the walkway. The door to these rooms had been left unlocked, so it was easy to just walk in. The window was fairly large, with the walkway about four feet below it. I swallowed hard. The walkway itself was made of marble, but its side and top were curved glass, and probably not made to be walked on. The distance between the two towers seemed abnormally long, and the ground was very, very far away, with ant-like humans walking around, oblivious.  
  
I am such a stubborn idiot, I thought, swinging my legs over the windowsill. I centered my weight on the glass, and slowly slid my hands down the side of the building as I moved to a crouching position. On all fours, I turned myself around and slowly began to inch across the glass roof. The slippery, domed, extremely high up glass roof. The sweat on my hands made them slip on the glass. I looked down, mesmerized at the sight of the small houses and people below me. It wasn't so bad when I wasn't moving; it was the moving I had a problem with.  
  
I gasped when I saw a person leave the second tower and head across on the bridge. Don't look up, I prayed. Don't look up, don't look up. One glance through the clear roof and I was doomed. I watched the man as he made his way across the bridge, stopping to admire the view. Thankfully, he did not look upwards. As soon as he was gone, I dragged myself forwards again, crawling to the other side. I slowly stood up, grabbed onto a window above me. My hands were shaking as I fumbled with the lock. Steadying my hands through sheer willpower, I managed to open it, and hauled myself into the room. I collapsed in a heap, breathing hard.  
  
"Well," I said aloud, "that wasn't too bad." I managed a shaky smile, checked my dress in a conveniently placed mirror, and strolled out of the room like I had every right to be there.  
  
I walked down the circular staircase, with no idea where I was walking. After awhile, I reached an elaborate door reading "Audience chamber." The door was open, and I slipped quietly into the chamber, my slippered feet making no noise as I crept along the walls. I quickly ducked below a conveniently out of the way table with it's cloth reaching the ground. Then I closed my eyes and recalled what I had just seen.  
  
I was in a circular room; the Bastian architects seemed to enjoy circles. However, this room was domed, the ceiling painted with pictures depicting the founding of the Bastian Empire and it's first ruler. Quietly, I lay down under the table and opened my eyes, pushing my head out from under the table, right next to a wall. I stared up at the small section of ceiling that I could see. The painting was extremely detailed, each depicted jewel shining with painted sunlight. The entire ceiling shone slightly, as if it was pained glass the sun shone through, instead of a painted ceiling with many more layers above it.  
  
I withdrew under the table again, and focused on calling to mind the rest of the room. I drew my knees to my chest and rested my head on them. In the center of the room there was a round table on a slightly raised dais. About twenty seats sat around it, filled with man all dressed in silver robes identical to Aiven's. Around the table, more chairs were gathered, men sitting in all places. I estimated there were about seventy men in the room. I had no doubt that they were all Seers, though I wondered briefly why no royalty was present. Then I concentrated on their words.  
  
"The rest of us will be arriving within a week," a light baritone voice said. The owner of the voice sounded about Aiven's age. "Emperor Sair will be giving us the second largest audience chamber when the rest are here. In a tenday we will all gather for our first meeting. We will be joined by our royalty the day after. Please inform your royals of all important decisions. The Seer's Council will meet in five days." He paused a moment. "The reason we are together now is because Aiven of Sontái has something to discuss."  
  
There was a scrape of chair and a rustling of fabric; someone - Aiven - was standing up, and the others were probably turning to look at him. "Well, Sontái? What's so important you have to immediately inform everyone, not wait another second?" someone asked sarcastically.  
  
"More important than anything you've discovered," Aiven returned. I choked back laughter at their childish exchange.  
  
"Really. Go ahead."  
  
I could practically see Aiven glaring at the other Seer.  
  
"I've found the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin," Aiven said meaningfully. To say the room went silent was an under exaggeration. Forget a pin; you could have heard a feather dropped.  
  
Finally the leader spoke. "Thank the Lady," he said, voice trembling a little. When he continued, I could hear a smile in his voice. "Who would have thought *you* would find her, Aiven?" I heard several soft laughs, and snickers. I raised my eyebrows, wondering what the was about,  
  
"So maybe I was an unlikely one to find her. But I did."  
  
The room was silent again, until a new voice murmured, "A street rat from Cyri almost forced to become the bride of Yvonhe's prince. Daughter of a goddess, beautiful as Annoia. The single person who can save us or destroy us, if she does not try to leave us first. In your care." I heard several strangled laughs. "Found, by you, the one Seer who would rather be on the battlefield, who resisted his destiny, who denounced the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin, who said we did not need her - you're now her protector."  
  
He denounced me? I thought, surprised. I heard the voices increase as everyone tried to make themselves heard. Suddenly they all stopped, and everyone was silent for a minute before Aiven spoke, voice steely. "What I said of her before does not matter. Besides," and his voice turned darkly amused, "don't you want to know her name?"  
  
"We'll bite, Aiven," drawled the Seer from before. "What is she called?"  
  
"Her name," Aiven said grimly, "is Laeliena."  
  
The shocked silence lasted a quarter of a second before a babbling of confused and excited voices broke out, rising to an ear-throbbing crescendo before the Seer in charge thundered, "Enough!" The room was instantly ruled by silence, and the hosting Seer growled in a low voice, "Explain."  
  
"The vision never gave me her name," Aiven said seriously, "so when she gave me a false name, I had no reason to disbelieve her. We met with an old acquaintance of hers who called her Laeliena. That night, I summoned a Seeing." A low murmur circulated the room. "She is indeed Laeliena, along with the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter."  
  
The room was collectively awed. I shifted uncomfortably under my table, wondering exactly what all these high-ranking Seers expected of me, and wondering if I was capable of doing all of it. What exactly was I?  
  
"How is that possible?" someone asked in desperation. "You must be mistaken! She cannot -"  
  
"Fjorln." This was the hosting Seer. "Aiven has never - never - incorrectly scryed. His blood makes that impossible, as you well know."  
  
I stifled a groan. This was confusing me even more. What did Aiven's blood have anything to do with anything? Weren't his family farmers?  
  
"This does complicate things," the Seer continued. "We did not expect the princess for another four hundred years. It seems the girl will have more distractions then we expected, being the princess."  
  
"She has her own war to fight," another Seer said. "Princess Laeliena will be - has been - born to re-create her country of magical beings."  
  
"Then we can use that to convince her to stay on our side," the Seer in charge said firmly. "If we promise to help her take her country back when our war is over, she will hopefully stay with us."  
  
"I'm not sure that will assure her help," Aiven broke in. "She has no memory as princess -"  
  
"What?!" a few voice cried out. I frowned. Was I supposed to remember another lifetime?  
  
"Meeting disjoined," the head Seer said. "We are allowing ourselves to become to riled to speak properly. You will be informed at the Assembly in s tenday when this information is better understood. Good day."  
  
There was a murmuring of farewells and a scraping of chairs and feet as everyone began to exit the room. All the Seers were talking in excited, high voices, and everything I heard concerned my name - or one of them. Finally the hall seemed empty.  
  
"By the First Seer, Aiven!" exclaimed the head Seer, sounding much younger and excited now that he and Aiven were alone. "You found her! YOU! Hah!" There was a noise that sounded suspiciously like a punch on the arm. "Hello, warrior, you've found the most important girl in the world - excusing my love, of course - and you didn't want to!" I grinned. The head Seer seemed to have no restraints about making fun of Aiven when he had no one he was supposed to be a leader to around.  
  
"Thanks, friend," Aiven said sourly. "I didn't go looking for her, you know, like the rest of you were doing. It just -sort of - happened."  
  
"And what else 'just -sort of - happened'?" the Seer said in a teasing voice, and I heard another thump as something was hit.  
  
"Nothing," Aiven said, laughing. "*I* know she's off-limits."  
  
"Oh, give in. She's supposed to be the most beautiful girl in the world."  
  
"Well, she's certainly the most temperamental." I rolled my eyes. Would it kill Aiven to admit I was pretty?  
  
Though I'd admit saying I was the most beautiful girl in the world might be a little much.  
  
"She can't be that bad," Aiven's friend protested with a laugh.  
  
"You haven't met her," Aiven said darkly, and I felt a twinge somewhere around my heart that I chose to ignore. Since when did I care what Aiven thought about me? I thought defiantly, then immediately thought, don't answer that.  
  
"Yes, she's beautiful," Aiven continued, "and she's spirited and independent as well. Far more then any of us were expecting. As for disposition, I'd say it's more along the fiery lines we expected for the Princess Laeliena then the docile girl we were hoping to be Her daughter. And she has a temper, Corln," he warned. "Not to mention she has no qualms about stealing things. She was a thief, for the Lady's sake - it's in her nature to betray and backstab!"  
  
I couldn't take it any longer. I rolled out from under my table and quickly unfolded to my feet. "I didn't know you thought so little of me, *warrior*," I spat, shaking with anger. I had no idea what the "warrior thing meant, but several people had alluded to it before.  
  
Both of the Seers spun around to stare at me, faces draining of color. "*First Seer*," Seer Corln swore shakily. Aiven didn't say anything. I raised my brows, waiting for something, anything - though preferably an "I'm sorry." He didn't say anything.  
  
"Wanted me to be docile, did you?" I asked angrily. "Well I'm not. Wanted to force me to help you? What happened to just ASKING? Think I betray and backstab, Aiven?" I asked softly, whole body quivering. My hands were clenching and unclenching at my sides as I stared at Aiven in anger. "Think once a thief, always a thief? If that's the way you view me, fine," I said, voice shaky but slowly rising in volume, "but you can fine someone ELSE to fight your *damn war*!" With that, I spun and marched from the room, barely hearing Corln moan and say, "this is exactly what we wanted to *prevent* from happening!" 


	18. Apologies

I was angry - and quickly approaching stark-raving mad- when I stormed out on Aiven and the other Seer. Thieving, was I? When was the last time I had done that, excusing a few worthless trinkets? It was a habit I had had my whole life; I couldn't drop it at the snap of someone's fingers. But BACKSTABBING? That was the real reason I was seething. I was NEVER backstabbing. All Aiven had to back that up was because I was a thief.  
  
But even a thief has honor.  
  
"Backstabbing," I muttered to myself, practically running down the stairs and past startled servants, then flinging myself out the door into sunlight. "Who does he think he is?" Scowling darkly, I marched across the courtyard, ignoring everyone else in it. Where was Mariva? There was no one else I wanted to see right now; I just wanted to talk to my friend.  
  
For whatever reason I didn't see the man until he was right in front of me. By than it was too late to slow down, and I barreled right into him. We both fell over, swearing in surprise. His curses were like a lord's; mine like a street rat. "Sorry," I muttered, pulling away from him. He climbed to his feet first and helped me up.  
  
"I didn't know ladies could speak like that," he said in a much pleasanter tone then I would have used had someone knocked me over.  
  
"Ladies can't" I said flatly, in no mood to flirt, no matter how good- looking the man before me was. I gave him a polite smile and started to walk away.  
  
"Wait," he commanded, catching my hand and placing it in the crook of his arm. "I don't even know your name. What if I never see you again?"  
  
Then you'll find another beauty to seduce, I thought dryly, trying to place his familiar voice. I looked him up and down, then could have smacked myself as I saw his now dusty clothes. What if he never saw me again? I thought mockingly. "Oh, I dare say you will," I told the Seer lightly. "In fact, you'll probably be seeing -or speaking - a lot about me for the next few weeks."  
  
"Confident of yourself," Aiven's rival teased. I wondered what he and Aiven had against each other, and wondered again what the "warrior" remark meant. Looking into the smiling bluish-gray eyes of this slightly disheveled Seer, I decided to find out.  
  
"I'm no more sure of myself than you are of yourself, my lord," I said blithely. He gave me a strange look - Seers were addressed as "Lord Seer" or "Excellency" by almost everyone. I pretended not to notice my incorrect form of address, and strolled with him out of the courtyard into another garden.  
  
"I'm supposed to be confident," he said. "After all, I'm a Seer." He looked at me as if I had - somehow - not noticed what he was.  
  
"I know," I said simply, giving him a dazzling smile.  
  
He raised a brow. "You do not sound impressed." He sounded amused.  
  
"Well, I've met a few of your exalted kindred before," i told him, unable to keep some sarcasm from my voice. "Royalty too."  
  
"What royalty?" he asked casually.  
  
"Oh, you know," I began, giving a dismissing wave, "they all blend together after a while," I said mockingly.  
  
"You've wit," he said, pulling me down beside him on a bench. "I like that in a lady."  
  
"Ah, that explains why you took me for a stroll," I quipped, "and here I thought it was my beauty."  
  
He laughed. "What Seers have you met?" He could not quite mask his interest.  
  
I was reluctant to speak of Aiven immediately. "My best friend is betrothed to the Seer of the Bastian Empire," I said lightly, examining my nails.  
  
The youth was impressed. "He speaks highly of her. Lady Mariva of Sontái," he mused, then met my golden eyes. "Then you must be from Sontái as well. I suppose you know the Seer?"  
  
"Doesn't everyone?" I said, my eyes still on his. "Are you friends?"  
  
He smirked slightly. "Are you friends?" he echoed.  
  
I pulled a grimace. "I'd hardly say that," I told him.  
  
"Oh, did he win your heart and break it?" he asked.  
  
I looked at him sharply. He implied that Aiven broke many hearts. I couldn't imagine him as a womanizer; he was too preoccupied with his prophecies. If he broke many hearts (likely) I doubted it was on purpose, or that he noticed, really. Aiven just wasn't like that.  
  
"No," I told the Seer. "I barely know him." I looked at the flowers in front of me for a moment, then gave in to curiosity. "I heard him referred to as a 'warrior.' But he's a Seer." I looked at the young man questioningly. In my experience, people loved to gossip about people they didn't like.  
  
Apparently this man was no different. "Seer Aiven was training to be a knight," the youth said. "He'd risen through the ranks, and didn't he love it. Fame, glory, battles, women," he said disgustedly. "He was one of those thrillseekers - far too young to be on the front line, but doing t anyway. He gained everything he wanted; he seemed invincible. He thought that fighters were far superior to magic-users; Mages, Seers, Healers. HE was the only Seer who was *dismayed* to find out who he was."  
  
I considered this carefully. I was sure there was more to this story then this Seer was telling me. How long had Aiven actually been a Seer? I supposed I'd always rather thought he was a Seer. And I was having a lot of trouble seeing Aiven as a bloodthirsty, fame-seeking warrior. Though he HAD said he wanted to be in the front lines, rather then protecting me. I frowned, and walked over to the flower bush. The Seer followed me with his gave. Meeting it, I asked, "Did he -"  
  
"There you are!" Mariva interrupted, dashing up to me. "By the Lady, Damslae, I've been looking all over the place for you." She smiled impishly.  
  
"Oh, wonderful," I said with a smile. "And why would you do that?"  
  
The Seer looked surprised at Mariva's interruption, but Mariva had her back to him, and had not noticed him. She spoke again before he could say a word. "Corln came looking for me several minutes ago," she said, a little more seriously. "He said you were upset, that Aiven was upset, and you had announced you were leaving." She frowned, concerned. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I'll tell you later," I told her, then took her arm and turned her around. When she saw my companion her eyes winced for a moment, before she masked her face in lady-like demeanor. She smiled slightly, raising her head regally.  
  
"Lady Mariva," the Seer said, also appearing slightly surprised. He took her hand, standing and bowing over it.  
  
"Lord Seer Tyron," Mariva said, regaining her hand and curtsying. "'Tis a pleasure to see you again." She glanced from him to me, her eyes worried.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine," he said politely. Mariva smiled blandly, then turned back to me.  
  
"What happened?" she asked, concerned. "Corln was worried too, and he never worried. He told me to find you and to entreat you to stay." Her mouth quirked slightly, and we exchanged amused glances. "He said Aiven was less than tactful."  
  
"He was downright insulting," I moaned. "You have no idea you tempting it was to punch him."  
  
"And you resisted?" Mariva asked in mock-shock.  
  
"Barely," I said seriously. "I just want to leave."  
  
"No you don't," Mariva contradicted, and I laughed. Truthfully, I didn't know where I'd go if I left.  
  
"Why do Corln and Aiven care where you go?" the Seer Tyron asked, looking towards me with a frown. "I thought you didn't know Aiven that well."  
  
"I said I didn't get along with him," I corrected, not quite sure what I had said, or caring.  
  
"Oh, think a moment, Tyron," Mariva said, her lady-mask slipping. "Who do you think she is? She's beautiful - she's smart - she knows Aiven - make a guess."  
  
Comprehension started to dawn on Tyron's face, and Mariva smiled at him brightly. "Allow me to introduce her - The Princess Laeliena, daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin."  
  
Laughing softly, she took my arm and pulled me along with her as we left the garden. Try as I might, I couldn't quite keep the smile off my face as we left one stunned Seer behind.  
  
*************************************************  
  
We sat in contemplative silence in Mariva's room, after we had spoken of everything that had happened since we parted this morning. Mariva and Tullon had been given rooms in the foreign royalty wing, and Mariva had stayed there all day until Corln came.  
  
Corln . . . I hadn't forgotten he, the Bastian Seer, was Mariva's betrothed, but when I was listening to him talk to Aiven and the other Seers earlier, it hadn't clicked Now I tried to bring his face to my mind, the man Mariva would marry - and whom she loved.  
  
He was Aiven's height and Aiven's age, but I had been too angry with Aiven to notice much else. I had a vague recollection of dark hair and almond shaped blue eyes, set in a pale, aristocratic face.  
  
"I wonder if Aiven'll apologize," Mariva mused from where she lay sprawled on one couch. I lay on one opposite hers, idly braiding half my hair.  
  
"Aiven? Apologize?" I scoffed. "He'll probably expect *me* to apologize for eavesdropping."  
  
"But he ought to apologize, *Princess*. After all, he needs your help." We giggled. "Oh, and I meant to ask you," Mariva continued, "Do you mind what I call you? Will it bother you if I continue to call you Damslae?" She met my eyes, and though her voice was casual, her gaze was serious. "It's just - Princess Laeliena has always been a legend to me, a tale I've known forever - except for her name, as most people don't know that - and, well, I just have a hard time matching her to you." She frowned. "That sounded incredibly stupid, considering you ARE her." She sighed. "The point is, can I just call you Damslae?"  
  
I nodded. "But being a legend - royalty - I'm not really, am I?" I asked, confused. "From what I've heard - not that anyone will actually *explain* anything - the country that I'm, um, princess of is a little . . . non-existent?" It had sounded like I would have to gather all the citizens myself and fight a war to gain my kingdom. I didn't even know what the war would really be about, or who it would be against. And thinking of myself as a princess - a REAL princess, with a kingdom, and duties, as opposed to an empty title - was a little beyond me right now.  
  
"I don't know," Mariva said slowly. "Tullon said something about you making a debut as the Princess . . . Because you ARE royalty," she said earnestly, "as royal as Tullon, or my uncle, or Mage-King Sair. You hold the same rank as any other princess; higher, considering your kingdom and heritage. And you'll be presented as a true princess. As for your country, Lahtorli," and now Mariva's voice took on a more confident, knowledgeable tone, "it was invaded thousands of years ago, by a blackened Seer and his army. The people of it were driven out, though some may have taken refuge in hidden caves and places of the country. Others fled to different lands, though they- and their descendants - retained a mind-link with Lahtorli. All the citizens were elves, fairies, and other magical beings. Very few humans lived there before it was conquered - not absorbed into other countries. It is still it's own country, but subdued completely."  
  
"And you know this all from your mind link with Corln?" Mariva nodded. I sighed. "I wish I knew all of this already. I though the fairies and everyone had their own kingdom, which the Lady protected from Before her father's destruction. I thought it was one of the three places she saved."  
  
Mariva stared at me for a moment as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of my words. Then she started to giggle. "Lahtorli IS that kingdom, silly. Where all the fairies live. It was just taken over after that."  
  
I stared right back at her, mouth dropping open. "Wait - that's *my* kingdom? Mine? With fairies and elves and . . . magic? But I'm just . . . oh, Lady."  
  
Mariva nodded. "For the last several millennia, the citizens have been scattered throughout all the continents, mixing with ordinary humans. Corln says they don't like to make a fuss over it with the non-magics, and don't let it be widely known about losing their country. Everyone knows about the legendary Lahtorli being lost; most just don't connect it with the magic-beings home."  
  
I looked down at my hands, not really seeing them; instead I was seeing the stained glass windows in Yvonhe's capital Cyri, the windows in the church that showed the Lady saving the three places. Silently, I mouthed the ritual words that told of where she had saved; the mountaintop of Mt. Havoni, the ancient city of Canaion, in Bast, and helping the fairies, the fairies ancient homeland.  
  
Lahtorli - MY Lahtorli - was "the fairies ancient homeland."  
  
"If I'm the princess of fairies and elves . . ." I said slowly, "If I'm the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin . . . am I human?" I met Mariva's serious dark brown eyes, which shone softly.  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
**********************************  
  
I didn't see Aiven until dinner; then again, I didn't look for him. He sent a note to Mariva's room saying the six of us - though, typically Aiven, he didn't specify whom that included - would be eating privately.  
  
I didn't change my dress for dinner, which Mariva told me would be a subtle insult. (Then we laughed. Subtle? When was I ever subtle?" I didn't really feel like putting on another dress anyways, even though I had in Sontái. Besides, if I was able to avoid taking the time to change, AND insult Aiven at the same time, all the better.  
  
I couldn't help wondering who took care of these masses of clothing that the court ladies wore all the time. We left the out at night and they were returned to our closets in the morning. Taking care of these hundred of dresses seemed like a very boring job.  
  
And that was my profound though for the day, I thought as Mariva and I proceeded downstairs in are slightly dusty traveling clothes, as she hadn't changed either. The servant leading us through the unfamiliar castle brought us to a chamber with a round mahogany table and chairs. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling painted in a rich red tone that matched the carpet. There were four exits, I noted. Five if I counted the windows.  
  
Four young men stood as we entered. If Aiven was irritated at our dress - if he even noticed - he gave no sign. Unlike this afternoon, he was not wearing formal Seer robes, but instead a brown velvet (chrushed velvet) britches and a gold tunic. Tullon stood beside him, also dressed informally, though he did wear his circlet.  
  
There was no way anyone was going to make me wear a circlet.  
  
Corln, the third person at the round table, only had eyes for Mariva, and I smiled slightly when I saw her devoted gaze locked with his. The fourth person I did not recognize; he was older than the previous three, about twenty-five.  
  
"May I present," Corln said to the stranger, "my betrothed, the Lady Mariva of Orlask, niece of the King of Sontái." The stranger took her hand and politely bowed over it.  
  
Then Aiven stepped forward. His face was as blank as mine, and I had no way of knowing if he was apologetic. I doubted it. His eyes and voice suggested otherwise. "Allow me to present Princess Laeliena of Lahtorli, daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin." No one at the table so much as blinked. "I don't believe you've - formally - met Lord Seer Corln?" The Bastian Seer took my hand, casting a glance at Mariva, as if looking for reassurance that I would not blow up at him. He brushed the air above my hand with his lips. "And this is Lord Seer Lauten," Aiven said, who also bowed over my hand. We carefully took our seats, silent as the maids who served our first course, then arranged the rest of the food buffet style on a long, narrow table. They then left the room, closing the doors behind them. I cast a desperate glance towards them as if they were my last hope of escape. Five ways to leave, I reminded myself. They were all seeming like good choices in the uncomfortable silence right now; even the window.  
  
"I would like to speak openly." Aiven's voice cut through the tension, but didn't dissipate any of it. I was not using his "open" voice. He wasn't even using his friendly or pleasant voice. He was sounding more Seer-ish, less Aiven-ish.  
  
And openly? I wondered nervously. What exactly did "openly" entitle? He could be actually be referring to speaking openly, but then again, he could mean *Court* openly, which was an entirely different thing. All the men looked so serious, I thought even more nervously. I wasn't sure if I had EVER seen Tullon look serious.  
  
"Your Highness," Seer Corln said, and with a jolt I realized he was addressing me, not the Sontáin mage-prince. "On behalf of all the Seers, I would like to entreat you to stay and learn about our goals and the things we hope you to assist us with, before you make a decision to leave."  
  
So they had taken me seriously when I threatened to leave, I thought dryly. And where exactly did they expect me to go if I didn't stay with them?  
  
All the three youths were now giving Aiven pointed looks; it was obviously his turn to speak in this little tableau. He took a deep breath, and looked straight at me. "I would like to apologize for the words I spoke ill of you earlier," he said formally. "I was unjust in my speech and apologize sincerely for any of the hurt my cruel words may have inflicted." The table held its collective breath, waiting to see if I would accept Aiven's apology. I watched Aiven, who was sitting stiffly in his hair, now unable to meet my eye.  
  
"If I may speak openly?" I asked, my tone slightly mocking though I had not intended it to be so. I watched my finger make circular movements around the rim of my wineglass, but was aware when the young men nodded.  
  
"I think the Lord Seer Aiven and I should talk openly - somewhere else," I said sweetly. With that, I stood up and strode out of the room, my slippers making no sound on the carpeted floor. I caught sight of Mariva's amused, approving expression, Tullon's raised eyebrow, and the alarm on three of the Seer's faces. I didn't look at Aiven.  
  
I pushed the door I had entered from open, glad to make use of one of the exits (especially one that wasn't the window) and walked out without looking to see if Aiven followed.  
  
He did - a second later, the doors opened again and he strode out. His blank face façade was replaced with the more familiar and comforting angry, irritating look.  
  
"Was I not sincere enough?" he snapped, amber eyes blazing. They were looking a little less brown a little more honey-gold and closer to my eye color then normal. It was unsettling. "Not heartfelt enough? Perhaps you'd like me to get down on one knee and beg for your forgiveness."  
  
"There's no need to be petty," I replied, stung. "Maybe you could have explained *why* you said those things. Though I must say, your prettily delivered speech didn't strike me as sincere. Tough how we were expected to speak openly with so many people around . . ." I shook my head. "Why did you say that about me?" I asked quietly, unable to help myself, turning away. "It . . . it did hurt, Aiven, alright? It hurt," I blurted out.  
  
Backstabber.  
  
I turned around soon enough to see Aiven shove both hands through his hair, then lock them behind his back. "I *am* sorry," he told me. "What I said was . . . unacceptable. I have no excuse."  
  
I stared at him, incredulous, my hurt fading away for a moment as he stared at the ground. "Are you apologizing? Actually taking the blame?" I demanded of him.  
  
He scowled. "Is that so impossible to believe? I've apologized before."  
  
"Um . . . No."  
  
He sighed. "Why were you there in the first place?"  
  
"I wanted to talk to you." I said defensively. "I wanted to know where Mariva was."  
  
"And you had to *hide under a table* to see me?"  
  
"You were talking about me! I have the right to know what people are saying about me."  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"You know, that would be cryptic if it wasn't so overused."  
  
Aiven sighed - probably exasperated with me, as usual, then to my complete surprise walked straight towards me. I stepped backwards, banging against the wall. Aiven took another step forwards, leaving a foot between us and taking my hands in his. "I am truly, truly sorry," he told me. I looked away from his piercing amber eyes, but he gently raised my chin with one hand. "I don't apologize often," he told me. "I don't usually apologize even when I'm wrong. But I honestly did not mean what I said. There were no grounds to call you any of those things. I let my frustration and anger with other things concerning you - which are NOT your fault - color my words. I should not have called you a betrayer. And I have never - never - thought of you as backstabbing."  
  
I sniffed weakly, feeling like an absolute idiot. "I'm *not* backstabbing," I muttered. I bit my lip. Aiven annoyed with me I could understand. Aiven angry, sarcastic, arrogant or reasonable I could deal with. But Aiven *sorry?*  
  
I didn't want to cry. It's not that I despise girls who cry - I don't - but that if I cried over every sad thing in my life I'd barely have time to be happy. Not to mention that this wasn't particularly tragic. But all the feelings that I had locked inside, all the hurt, angry feelings, were coming undone as Aiven stood in front of me, wide eyes open and completely sorry. I sniffed again, blinking rapidly. And if Aiven hadn't whispered, "I wish I could make you feel better," and if he hadn't brushed a strand of hair out of my face, I probably wouldn't of.  
  
As it was, a few tears leaked out from the corners of my eyes before I was able to control myself again. Gently, with a touch like fairy wings, Aiven wiped away the tears. For a moment then, neither of us moved, his fingers resting against my cheek. Then we both leaned forwards, lips touching softly sweetly. His hand caressed my face as I wove my fingers through his hair. Our kiss deepened as we leaned into each other, letting go of all the ill emotion that had followed us all day. I didn't ever want to leave the circle of his arms.  
  
A loud noise sounded outside, and we drew back startled. We locked are hands behind our backs like mirror images. Aiven opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. For an instant, he looked vulnerable, for lack of a better word. His mouth pulled up in an uncertain half-smile. My throat didn't seem to be working; all I could concentrate on were the hundreds of butterflies and Aiven's handsome, familiar face. I licked my lips nervously, and his eyes darted down to them for a second before he jerked them upwards. He throat didn't seem to be working well either. I glanced towards the door, wondering if it would be cowardly to flee. I took a small step towards it.  
  
Aiven studied my face, a hesitant, almost frightened look on his. Then he turned and strode quickly across the room to a different door. He glanced back over his shoulder a moment before he left and whispered, "I'm sorry."  
  
I stood, frozen, staring at the swinging doorway. Sorry? For what? For calling me cruel, hurtful names?  
  
Or for kissing me?  
  
I pressed my hand softly to my mouth, savoring the feeling of Aiven's lips against mine. Then I, too, fled the room.  
  
**************************************************************************** ***************  
  
Yay! They kissed! Like you didn't notice. Okay, just incase you didn't realize, the necklace Aiven gave Laeliena two chapters ago was the same one ELLA'S MOTHER owned. Oh, and I have QUESTIONS:  
  
* What character should I develop more? (Tullon gets more stage time in the next chapter)  
  
* And what other things do you want me to work on more?  
  
Thank you! And Review!  
  
(There are some inconsistencies with this chapter about the history of Laeliena's chapter when compared to stuff I've written in earlier chapters. I don't know if any of you will REMEMBER that stuff, but that's okay, 'cause it's changed now. Just go with the most recent things I write. Thanks!) 


	19. Ballroom Lessons and Magic Talk

Happy Rosh Hashanah! I just had to spend three hours sitting in temple. Blah blah blah. . . And I didn't even get to miss school this year! The injustice! Here's the next installment, and though Aiven isn't really in it, I promise he'll be in the next one. Enjoy!

Oh, in case you care, I rewrote the first chapter, cause it sucked. ^_^

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"Aiven kissed me."

I could hear Mariva sit up when I said that. "Aiven _kissed _you?" she repeated in a strangled voice from where she lay on her bed. I sat up on my own, one the servants had hastily moved into Mariva's room, and fumbled for a candle. Mariva lit one first.

"When?" she asked, glancing at the moon. We had just blown our candles out ten minutes ago; before that she had walked out of dinner after me and we had arranged for an extra robbed in her room. If Aiven or Tullon had a problem with that, they could deal by themselves.

"Three, four hours ago," I confided in the glow of out two candles. I pulled my blankets closer to me. "He kissed me a week ago as well."

"Now she tells me," Mariva said, but she couldn't suppress a grin. "Go on. Tell me everything."

I did; she was still smiling as I finished. "Well," she said meaningfully.

"Oh, be quiet," I said. "Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."

She laughed, then grew a little more serious. "He's presenting you tomorrow," she told me. I looked at her curiously, not certain what she meant. "Corln told us before I went out after you and Aiven. You're to be presented to the Emperor and his advisors tomorrow. Corln will be there of course, and so will Seer Lauten, who was at dinner; he's one of the head's of the Seer's Council." She made a face. "I wish I knew more about the Seer's Council. They're incredibly secretive about their structure; I _do _know it's made up of fifty of the Seers.

"Aiven is also going to present and escort you at the ball at the end of the week -"

"What?!"

"Wait a moment. This is what Corln wanted to explain at dinner; but you _had_ to run out," she teased. "At the end of the week, all the Seers, royals, and their encourages will have arrived. The Made-King Sair is throwing a ball to welcome everyone. Everyone is going to act as if nothing is going on," Mariva told me seriously, only a hint of a smile to show how ridiculous she thought this was. "War will not be spoken of openly until the first battle begins."

"Another stupid court dance," I sighed.

Mariva nodded. "Corln will be escorting me, and Aiven you. Corln said you and Aiven should talk."

"Did Corln now?" I teased. "What else did Corln say?"

Mariva mock glared at me, and said airily, "Nothing of interest."

"Did he _do _anything of interest?" A pillow flew my way, and I ducked giggling. "Come on. Tell me something romantic he's done."

"Unfortunately he's been a little too worried about his best friend upsetting the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin daughter to talk to me about anything other then them."

"If _that _was true, you'd sound a little more miffed with me," I countered smiling. I knew they had spent a little time together right before she came into our rooms for sleep, undoubtedly when he'd told her about the balls and everything, as there had been no time at dinner.

"Well, maybe," Mariva laughed at me. I listened quietly as she - smiling 0- told me some of the sweeter things he'd done for her.

"You really love him, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes," she responded with a rather silly smile. "I do." She shot me a look, then carefully studied her nails. "When we first met, we argued a lot - sort of like you and Aiv -"

"He's told me repetitively he wants nothing to do with me," I interrupted.

"But he kissed you," Mariva reminded me in a singsong voice. I threw her pillow back at her, and soon we were engaged in a childish pillow battle.

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Corln came to whisk Mariva off early the neck morning, and though she protested, I insisted she go. I sat in our shared room, pacing back and forth, wishing I knew where Aiven was but unwilling to search for him.

"Have you been abandoned too?"

I spun around to see the grinning mage-prince in my doorway. "May I come in?" he asked, stepping in as I nodded. "I was planning to talk with the Sontái ambassador today, but he had to visit a dying friend, so I was put off," he said easily. I gave him a bright smile.

"Hello highness," I said, bobbing a curtsy that was more the mock of one I had performed in Yvonhe then one intended to show respect.

"Hello highness," he mimicked, but with a bow. He studied me, dropping down on a coach across from where I stood. I sat down as well. "So, Princess," he said, "we've been traveling together for he last two weeks, and I hardly know more then a name." He tilted his head, as if waiting for me to spill out my dark, intermost secrets.

I was tempted to reply "you're not supposed to know me," but I resisted. I had a feeling that the more friends I had, the better. I may have smiled repetitively and been flippant back in Yvonhe, but combined with my unusual looks that usually made people uncomfortable, not friendly - or a little too friendly. Instead I nodded at Tullon, carefully studying him. I didn't really know anything about him either, aside from what Mariva said. "I know you're a prince and a mage," I said carefully.

"And?"

Well, he was asking . . . "I know you're a flirt, and spoiled, and vain, but that's about all." I finished bluntly, watching careful to see his reaction.

Surprisingly, he did not bluster or insult me. "True enough." He raised his eyebrows, giving me the same inscrutable look I had given him. "I know you're a princess. I know you're the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin, and beautiful, and clever. I know you were a thief, and that you may have the power to save or ruin the world."

I laughed. So much for diplomacy. "Call me Laeliena," I told him, placing my hand face up. He lay his hand over my wrist, encircling it as I encircled his own in the universal symbol of greeting. 

"Call me Tullon," he said with his own brilliant smile. Even if he had not been a mage or a prince, I could see why ladies would be attracted to him.

"I'm not looking for a paramour," I said seriously, though could hardly keep from giggling. Paramour. Nobles came up with the funniest words for some things . . .

He nodded, spreading his hands in a gesture of woe. "Of course not. You have Aiven. How could I possibly compare to the Seer of a realm?"

"I do not have' Aiven," I said hotly, beginning to regret bringing up the whole paramour thing.

Tullon only grinned and continued as if I had not spoken. "Especially not a young, handsome one," he groaned, "with such old, blue blood."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, exasperated. "I thought he was from a farmer family!"

"Well, of course his father is -" Tullon broke off. "You mean you don't _know?_" he asked incredulously.

"Know _what?_"

A slow grin spread across his face. "If Aiven hasn't told you, then I'm certainly not going to," he said maddeningly.

"Why not? Everyone seems to know about me, more then I know. Why can't I know about Aiven?"

Tullon just shook his head. "He'll tell you eventually."

"Sure he will," I drawled. "Aiven just _loves _keeping me informed about things. Did you know that when I asked him about court he said, "you'll find out when you get there'?"

Tullon started. "That's another thing - you don't really know much about courts. And you're a princess!"

Yes, I thought sarcastically, with a scattered people, a conquered land, and no idea whatsoever what being a princess entitled. I certainly didn't feel like a princess.

Then again, I didn't quite feel like a thief anymore, either.

"Mariva and Aiven are supposed to teach you, but seeing how they're otherwise occupied . . ." he stood and bowed with a flourish. "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Grinning, I accepted his offered hand and he pulled me off the couch. He waved one hand flourishingly and snapped. I didn't notice anything at first; then several changes occurred. The natural light in the room darkened, though the midmorning sun was shining at the window, and the candle intensity increased. Light curtains dropped over the windows. Strains of music reached us, as if it was floating up from the floor below. The melody was beautiful. I looked at Tullon curiously; he was now dining widely.

"This is the Opening Ballad," he announced with mock stuffiness. "To begin with, you hold your hands like this . . ."

Tullon was, as Mariva had said, spoiled, but he was also polite and interesting, as well as an incurable tease. He seemed shocked by my lack of knowledge of court manners, which made him act superior, but when I challenged him to a knife fight - and easily won - I gained his respect. I liked him; he was refreshingly relaxed and didn't spin circles around me with prophecies and secrets.

As we practiced table manners using tableware Tullon had conjured out of nowhere (though they did occasionally slip right through my fingers and disappear) I managed to bring the topic back to Aiven.

Well, why not? I'm sure he and all his Seer friends talk about me a lot. Somehow I think their interest is a little less personal, though. I wanted to ask why Aiven and Tyron disliked each other so much, but I wasn't sure how much a prince would know about a foreign Seer, one of many. Instead I asked another question that had been bothering me. "How long was Aiven a warrior?" I wondered casually, trying to make it seem like I already knew a lot about it.

"Oh, a few years," Tullon replied just as causally. "Wrong fork - use three pronged one. Let's see - well, there were those years he was training, so that's four; he was fourteen when he first went into battle. He was only actually there for two years, though it seemed much longer."

Somehow I doubted a sixteen-year-old boy was enjoying "Fame, glory, battles, women," as Tyron had put it.

"Did he enjoy it?" I asked, and my attempt at sounding uncaring failed miserably.

"Oh, he loved it," Tullon answered, sounding as nonchalant as I'd wanted to. "After, he'd been training for it for years. When he started at ten he never thought he'd actually become a knight, since he wasn't a noble. Just a lowly attendant . . . But then his skill and - other things - changed that." He smiled as I opened my mouth. "No, I'm not going to tell you what other things' are.

"Aiven was a hero, you know. Did all those heroic deeds, went into battle - he wouldn't be knighted for at least a year, but he was as famous as all the royal knights. No, don't use that spoon - it's only for frozen cream."

He went on to describe some of the other things I was doing wrong, before I had the opportunity to nudge the conversation Aiven wards again. "How did he become a Seer?"

"You're asking me?" he said with a laugh. "No one knows how Seers are chosen. The story goes that when he was captured, the old Sontáin Seer appeared to him and told him how to escape, and that he was now the Seer." He shrugged. "Who knows. I don't think that's what happened - I think Aiven was a Seer long before he publicly admitted it. I'd say, fourteen, fifteen. Of course, no one really knows." He grinned at me. "Now, let's talk about you, lady. I know you'd prefer to learn everything you can about Sir Dream, but really . . ." He broke off, grinning, when he saw my face go red. "So you grew up on the streets of Cyri?" he asked, waving a hand to dissolve the dining set.

"Yes," I admitted as we moved to the couches. "But trust me, you wouldn't find it interesting."

He widened his eyes innocently. "How do you know? It might be useful to know how to pickpocket. Lord knows half -" he broke off, flushing slightly, though I could guess what he was going to say.

Smirking, I finished it for him "your lovers do? I bet you find yourself slightly less rich in the morning."

He made a face at me. "That would be another thing about being-street raised. Apart from no etiquette manners, you don't become properly embarrassed either." We laughed. He swept me up into a last dance, one of the newer, more complicated ones.

"Promise me you'll allow me to whisk you into this at the ball," he said as he raised me into the air. "Not only does it give us the chance to show off our impressive moves, but," here he winked, "I get the chance to make myself stand out from all the other royals by dancing with the most beautiful of princesses, therefore making me more desirable, and you, my dear, will have a chance to make Aiven jealous."

I glared at him. "I have no intentions of making Aiven jealous," I said, truthfully. "I honestly couldn't care less about him."

He gave an un-princely snort. "I hope you don't think that's true," he said.

"Yes, that's right," I started sarcastically. "I'm madly in love with Aiven, but neither of will admit to it." I rolled my eyes heavenward. "Lady protect me from bored princes forced to make up love scenarios in their mind."

Tullon laughed, only looking at me knowingly. While I had to admit I spent more time thinking about Aiven then should be needed, any romantic interest was instantly crushed when we spoke. A little less arrogance, a little less sarcasm, would be nice, thank you.

Tullon coaxed me into talking a little more about Cyri as we finished the dance, which he was gratifyingly interested in. I talked more to him about Cyri and my life there then I had to anyone but Mariva, and he seemed fascinated by it. I was afraid he was going to sneak out of the castle the next night and give street-living a try.

Then he led the conversation away from my street life to some of the other things I had done recently; specifically, my magic. I wasn't convinced I had any, but apparently Tullon was. "So how did you manage to bring the rains down in the courtyard as Sontái?" he said casually.

I had definitely not been expecting that. "Um, well," I said articulately, "I didn't."

He raised an eyebrow in a teasing way. "I suppose I just imagined being soaked to the bone the minute you became angry?"

"It didn't have anything to do with me," I insisted, staring at the carpet. I was telling the truth, I silently insisted. It wasn't like I had called for water. Oh, sure. Please, Lady, I would like it to rain at the moment. I scoffed to myself. "I'm not a Mage," I told Tullon determinedly. "It was a coincidence."

He hesitated, before drawing me into another difficult dance I had learned earlier, promising it would get easier with practice. "What were you feeling right before the rain?" he asked in a tone of professional interest.

I sighed. "All right, Tullon, if you insist I'll play along with this, but it wasn't me." I thought back. What I remembered most was the ruined makeup Mariva and I sported, which had sent us into fits of laughter. Before that, though . . . "I was angry at Aiven, who was trying to drag me out of Sontái before I had a chance to stay goodbye to anyone. I, um, yelled. Pretty loud." I felt anger start to resurface at Aiven again, and forced it away. Still, couldn't he have at least tried to be polite then?

"That's probably it," Tullon said thoughtfully. I bit back a smile. For some reason, it always amused me when Tullon actually sounded thoughtful. It was so rare.

And I mean that in the kindest way possible.

"I told you that I felt your untrained magic," Tullon continued. "I would guess - and this is _just _a guess, mind - that, since you haven't done any other magic since, yours is tied to emotion. You felt strong anger, and so you made it rain. Element-emotion magic is pretty unreliable, but yours should be different, considering who you are."

I tried to arc one eyebrow, failed miserably, and settled on raising both of them. I asked, "And exactly who would I be in this situation? Princess Laeliena or the Daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin?" What a mouthful. Couldn't my mother have had a shorter title?

"Laeliena, of course. The Daughter shouldn't have that kind of powers." He shook his head. "Lord, you must give the Seers a headache, mixing up their prophecies like that. Imagine the Daughter and Princess being the same person!"

I rolled my eyes, being a little accustomed to this reaction. "I know, I know, and I'm terribly sorry a messed their prophecies up. Forgive me for not being born both now and four hundred years in the future - that is when they expected the Princess to show up, isn't it?"

He nodded. "I'd like to try an experiment with your powers tomorrow, if you're not busy," he asked. "In the morning."

I hesitated. I really should clear it with Aiven first, as he was supposed to be taking care of me, protecting me, etcetera. But considering how he hadn't been near me all day, I figured it was his problem, not mine. "I'll try," I said, "But I really don't think I have any powers, not that I can control."

He grinned. "That's why we're experimenting," he said, and promised to come by in the morning. I thought about the rain, wondering if it really had been me, and if I could do it again without being highly emotional. My thoughts trailed to where I had been after the rain, saying good-byes . . . and that made me start. Tullon looked at me inquiringly, but I pasted a reassuring smile on my face. After arguing with Aiven, I had gone to the kitchens, where Johen was.

I had thought about him repetitively on our journey to Bast, but never had I felt such a strong surge of guilt. Here I was, practicing _dance steps _with a _prince_, and Johen was slaving away in a foreign castle because he'd followed me. He'd said it wasn't my fault, that I shouldn't blame myself for his bad luck, but I did. And though I had thought of him over and over again, I had never actually done anything. I was a _princess,_ I reminded myself fiercely, as everyone else had been reminding me. Just think of the things I could do . . . I took a deep breath, a plan slowly forming in my head. 

Then my deep, soulful resolve was interrupted by tripping over Tullon's feet.

We were taking a break from the dances - I was teaching Tullon how to free himself from oppressors if he was bound and blindfolded - when Mariva returned. With an elegant bow and a kiss on the hand, Tullon left.

"He's not that bad once you get past the superiority complex," I reflected as we munched on the chocolate truffles she had brought.

"Once you get _past _it or once you _ignore _it?" Mariva asked carefully.

"Past it," I said firmly. "Not forgotten, or forgiven. "He seems nice - we just have to make him less spoiled."

"That'll take a while."

"It seems like its going to be a long war." We laughed, before lapsing into silence as we thought about the war itself.

"It seems pointless to me," Mariva said. "If you're the one who makes the decision, why is there a war at all? Why don't you just declare who you want to win?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea. It does seem wasteful, though. Maybe they think that they can change my mind, or trick me. Maybe I don't even have a say in this at all. I don't think I decide who the victor is - I think I just strongly influence it." 

We thought about this for a moment, before simultaneously shaking our heads. "No more deep thoughts," Mariva said, and laughingly, I agreed. We turned a much more superficial subject.

"What are you going to wear to meet the Emperor?" Mariva asked, and as an answer I hauled her over to my chest of clothes. Digging through the various gowns and accessories I had legitimately acquired, and some of my accessories that I had not so legitimately received, I pulled out a gown of red silk embroidered with gold. "Lady Jainalii gave this to me as a parting gift," I said, laying it out on my bed. "I haven't actually tried it on yet."

"It's beautiful," Mariva said, touching they embroidered designs bordering the slit in the overskirt, and hem. She smiled wryly. "I don't suppose you've thought about accessories?"

"Not in the least," I said cheerfully. "I plan to meet him barefoot, hair undone, and jeweless."

"And I plan to be as far away as possible when that happens," Mariva teased. We smiled, then Mariva sighed. "Then we have to have a dress made for the ball."

"In less than a week?" I said skeptically. None of the dresses I owned had when made for me; I had learned that process took weeks.

"You can get anything in less then a week for enough money," she said cynically. Then she brightened. "And we have lots of money. Everyone loves rushing to accommodate a Seer . . . not to mention royalty," she added innocently.

"Ugh," I muttered, flopping down on my bed. I waved a hand above me and said haughtily, "I am Princess Laeliena, serve my every whim." For some reason, this happened to be one of those random comments that set Mariva and me into a giggling fit. We couldn't stop until the door was banged on, and forced our selves to calm down and act semi-responsible. Mariva jumped up to answer it as we smoothed our faces of laughter. We didn't quite manage it, and we exchanged glances, hoping the guest was a friend so if we randomly burst into laughter, it would be understood.

"Oh, hello," Mariva said in a relieved voice, opening the door wider. "Come in."

I swallowed a scowl. I could immediately tell who it was, and while I was glad it wasn't a random royal or Seer, I was annoyed Aiven would show up so late in the day.

"At least you showed up," I said aloud, glancing purposefully at the late afternoon sun. "I was beginning to think I'd have to introduce myself," I quipped, and watched as Aiven's lips tightened.

Oh Lady, those lips . . .

I was sure I went as red as my hair and the gown lady Jainalii had gifted me with that thought. I couldn't help remembering last night. But, holding to what seemed to be the individual Aiven Manner's, he acted as if the kiss had never happened. This time my lips tightened. He _had _said he was sorry. It was completely possible that he wanted nothing to do with me.

"Good afternoon, Mariva," he said politely, then turned to me after she returned the greeting. "We need to prepare for your presentation tonight. Come with me." He turned around, and with a nod to Mariva, walked out of out rooms. 

I made a face at Mariva. "Can't you feel the love?" I muttered sarcastically, leaving her to laughter as I followed Aiven outside.


	20. Attack of the Shrubs and Emperor Sair

We ended up walking through the Royal Maze. The Royal Maze seemed to be an synonym for miles of shrubbery that was impossible to escape from. I was beginning to suspect what happened to unpopular nobles or minor criminals. Instead of actually killing them, they were instead released into this maze, never to be seen again.

Aiven seemed unconcerned that we were going to die in the bushes. Maybe he somehow could foretell a way to get out, but that would probably be pushing my luck. Every so often I would hear a murmur of voices several shrubs away. To my surprise, none of them were screaming "help! help!" and pleading to be freed from this death trap. 

I'm not very comfortable in enclosed shrubs.

Eventually we reached a dead end in the shape of a large circle. This was apparently where Aiven had been heading, for he sat down on one of the marble benches facing a fountain. Flowers were plotted around the fountain, forming a lovely, delicate picture that I'm sure I would have appreciated if I had known it wouldn't be the last thing I saw. The tall green bushes still blocked everything from view. Finished scanning and realizing that the only choice I had was to stay with Aiven, no matter what, I sat down beside him.

"Why the secrecy?" I asked casually, eyeing the shrubs.

He shrugged. "I didn't want to use one of the regular gardens and risk being interrupted and forced to make small talk. There's only a few more hours before you're introduced to Mage-King Sair, and I have a lot to teach you."

"Oh, that," I said, unable to feel smug. "I already know everything I need to know. Tullon taught me."

Aiven looked surprised. "And when was this?" he asked, as if he wasn't quite sure if he believed me.

"This morning and afternoon," I said proudly. "I can now speak, eat, and dance in the presence of the Emperor."

His eyes narrowed, as if he was somehow annoyed. No doubt mourning the loss of being able to yell at me. "Fine," he said. "Show me the Opening Ballad. If you can get through that and the Ending no one will pay attention to most of the ones in-between." He leaned back, crossing his arms and watching me.

I let out an over exaggerated sigh. "Aiven, there's no music. And you sort of need to stand up. I can't dance by myself."

Ridiculous as this seemed, I suppose Aiven hadn't thought of that. To my absolute delight, he turned a little red, and muttered what sounded like, "Maybe that's not a good idea."

Thank you, Aiven. The fact that you don't want to dance with me does wonders for my ego.

"Well," he continued, brushing back his hair with one hand and still looking slightly uncomfortable. "We should probably go over the manners anyway." With a long suffering look, I allowed him to drill me in Princess/Daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin-meeting-Emperor manners, which mostly consisted of the same things Tullon had said: "This is what a princess _should _do, but since you're - you - you can probably be different if you want."

"Aiven," I said, deciding there was no way to make this seem causal. "I'm a princess, right?"

Aiven widened his eyes with mock astonishment. "Remarkable! Did you figure that out all by yourself?"

I lifted my head to glare at him, but when I met his eyes they were dancing in amusement. Reluctantly, I smiled. "Actually, I did," I said airily. "And usually princesses have lots of money," I continued seriously.

"If you want a new dress, you just have to ask," Aiven commented, still seeming amused with me.

I didn't laugh. "Do I?" I asked, watching him. "Do I have money that I can spend as I want?"

Aiven nodded, this time as serious as I was. His eyes narrowed. "You have money. But for now, I have to approve what you do with it. Why?"

I refused to let the fact that he had control over my money bother me at the moment. Instead I asked, "And Seers' are rich as well? By far as rich as royalty?"

He wasn't laughing anymore, only watching me as closely as I was watching him. "What do you want, Laeliena?" he asked flatly. That was what convinced me to come right out; when Aiven called me Laeliena, he was on the verge of definitely serious, not to mention unhappy with me.

I took a deep breath. "Remember Johen? You met him - briefly - in Sontái." I knew he remembered. He had been mentioned as the one I loved often enough.

"Johen," he repeated in a toneless voice. "What about him?"

I sat up straighter, feeling sincerely happy rather then the misery I'd felt the last few times I'd thought of Johen. "He mentioned in Sontái that it cost a large amount of gold to take the Quov'in stone from his wrist. But if we have money, we can do it! I've never really thought of myself having the resources a princess has, but I do." I met Aiven's eyes, silently asking him to share my happiness, but running up against a blank wall. "Don't you understand?" I tried to explain. "He can be freed from it. He won't have to be trapped in the kitchens of a foreign country. I can give him enough to go home, or bring him here, or anything. He won't suffer anymore!" I smiled enthusiastically at Aiven.

"Do you understand," Aiven said in a careful voice, "exactly what removing a Quov'in stone entails of?"

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, Aiven, do you think I do? I'm a thief - a princess - the Daughter, not a Healer or Mage. Since you obviously do, why don't you enlighten me?"

He continued in that careful, empty voice. "It's not foolproof. It's possible the subject will die from the removal, as it is possible they would die putting it in. More to the point, the three Healers required to remove it risk their lives as well. Quov'in Stones aren't made to be taken out, so it's a long complicated process. It's not safe."

"Well, some people obviously do it, don't they?" I snapped, angry with Aiven. I knew it was unreasonable, but he was taking my joy out of finding a way to help Johen. "Look, people will do it for money. I just need to have enough. Do I?"

Along with carefully speaking, Aiven was now carefully not looking at me. "It takes a large amount of gold, as you said. You will need your money for your country."

"Aiven," I ground out, "do I, or do I not, have enough money - which I can spare - to pay for the stone to be taken out?"

"Is it that important that this Johen be helped?" He said that as if he already knew the answer, so I answered in turn.

"You know it is. I would do it for anyone, but especially for Johen. We grew up together. He's family," I said determinedly.

Aiven finally looked up and met my eyes. He smiled lopsidedly at me. "Family," he said softly, and I remembered when he had once asked me if I loved Johen. I'd admitted to not being sure - did Aiven remember that? Did he even care? I looked away first this time.

"It's really important, then, isn't it?" Aiven said quietly. "Then yes, the money is not a problem. But -"

For a second I saw something in his eyes didn't translate into anything I recognized. "But what?" I asked as softly as him.

"For the Quov'in stone to be removed . . ." He halfheartedly smiled. "There's nothing else. It will be possible. It can be handled." He turned away, smile slipping into nonexistence.

It was easy to see he was hiding something, but it didn't seem like something that would hurt Johen, so I assumed it could wait. For the moment I just waited, wondering if now that Aiven had decided to take care of the removal, he was done speaking. He wasn't, of course. That would be letting me get away too easy.

"Do you ever wonder," he asked, sounding much more contemplative then I'd ever heard him sound before, "what it would be like if we didn't live like this? If we weren't all royalty and Mages and Seers and prophesied wonders? If we were all just common folk that liked in a village with nothing to worry about rather then if next year's harvest would survive, rather then if next year the world would survive? What would happen if we didn't have to be concerned about all the politics and were allowed to live and interact with people just based on our own concerns and feelings?"

Actually, I didn't wonder. For most of my life, I'd actually wondered what it would be like to live on this side of the money line, not the other way around. I did, although, wonder about how many different facets Aiven had tucked away in his personality. I had never considered him as trapped by being a Seer as I was following his orders. 

"You wouldn't like it, Aiven," I replied softly, seriously. I moved to stand beside him. "You wouldn't be able to live such a normal life."

He looked at me with raised brows, and I saw the spark in his eyes I was used to. It relieved me. The wistfulness that had been there a moment before had . . . scared me. "Was that a compliment or an insult?" he asked.

I bit back a smile. "A compliment, actually." He raised his brows even higher, and I blushed and looked away, realizing I'd just said I was complimenting him. "It's that you aren't like most people," I hurried on. "You just have that command, which though can be very irritating, makes you a leader. The best you could do as a villager would be as the village Headman or on the Town Council. You're the kind of person who stands out and makes a difference." I kept my eyes on my feet, knowing that in the past five seconds I had said more kind things about him then I had in the entire time we'd known each other. "Not," I concluded tartly, "that it means I don't mind putting up with you when you're acting imperial and domineering. I do. And I don't forgive you."

He laughed, and it dismayed me quite a bit how much I liked that laugh. Still, I cracked a small smile. "I think," Aiven said in an amused tone, "that we'd better go back t the palace. Consider how agreeable you are at the moment, you can only get worse, and that would be such a disappointment."

I mock glared at him and stuck my nose in the air, mimicking the tiny steps most ladies at Court confined themselves to. Smiling companionably, we walked back into the tangle of shrubs, preparing to dash through them again.

But I couldn't quite forget the wistful look when Aiven had wondered what it would be like if we could act on are feelings. And I couldn't stop wondering what Aiven - what _I -_would do if we were allowed to.

****************************************************************************************

We didn't actually make it out of the maze right away. It seemed like we would, as Aiven confidently turned corners, sharing ridiculous pieces of court gossip with his own acrid comments inserted. It turned out, however, that he no more knew the way out of there then I did, not having bothered to mark the way in, and sheepishly admitting that finding the clearing was luck. We ended up spending an hour and a half wandering through it, as the time for my introduction to the Emperor drew nearer.

"It would be just be luck if we missed the audience being trapped into this thrice-cursed maze," I muttered. I scowled at the tall hedges we walked by. "I swear I saw that twig before," I said, glaring at the offending twig that stuck too far out of the hedge. We walked on.

We reached an intersection and stopped. "I've heard that if you chose one direction and keep to it you eventually leave the maze," Aiven offered hesitantly.

"We'd better, or I'm going to go mad," I told him. "I don't think I can stand much more of these identical paths. I feel completely lost." Twenty minutes later after continuously going left, we reached a dead end.

I whirled around to glare at Aiven, who cautiously stepped backwards. "I guess that theory doesn't work," he offered, unable to contain a smirk. I narrowed my eyes at him furiously, then lifted my head up the sky - and screamed.

A hand clapped over my mouth, cutting me short. Honey colored eyes blazed at me. "What in the Lady's name are you doing?" he demanded.

"Getting us out of here," I said grimly once he removed his hand. "In case you haven't noticed, we're trapped, and I'm definitely too young to die.

He just looked at me, then stepped back. "Fine," he muttered. "Scream."

It turns out that no one really cares if there's a screaming girl in the Royal Maze; I didn't hear a single voice call out to ascertain I wasn't being murdered. When I finally stopped, hoarse from yelling, Aiven narrowed his eyes. I thought that he was about to yell at me for really screaming - but I was wrong. Instead he jabbed a foot into the dense, scratchy hedge, and then a hand. He hoisted himself up on top of the seven-foot hedge, lying down on it to distribute his weight. "Well?" he said down to me. "Aren't you coming?"

"And you call me ridiculous," I murmured, pulling myself up, which was much more difficult then Aiven made it seem. Interestingly enough, it was possible to crawl along the top of the hedge, occasionally jumping down and then up again as we made our way out of there. I don't even want to think about what it looked like to the people in the maze, but I was just glad to be on my way to freedom. When we finally landed outside the hedges, I promptly sat down on the grass. "Lahtorli," I murmured, twigs sticking to my clothes and my hair, my dress tangled about me. "will never have any mazes. Never. And if it does, my first royal degree will be to destroy them."

Smirking, Aiven pulled me to my feet and led me back to my suite, saying I had twenty minutes to prepare to meet Mage-King Sair, Emperor of Bast.

****************************************************************************************

"Well," I asked Mariva nervously, "Do you think I'm ready to meet the Emperor?"

"Damslae," Mariva responded in a tone of deep satisfaction, "you're ready to meet the Lady herself. Besides, I can hardly imagine you being made nervous meeting Mage-King Sair, considering all the other people you've met so far. I think," she said, smiling at me, "that you're more interested in what a certain Seer thinks about you in your awfully pretty new dress."

"And I think a certain lady has had a little too much wine for supper," I retorted. 

"Excuse me, _I _wasn't the one who went climbing on top of Royal Hedges where just about anyone could have seen me," she said in mock reprimand. Dropping the act, she continued with a smile, "you have no idea how much I wish I could have been there. Of all the court activities."

"Oh, be quiet," I told her with a laugh. "_You're _just jealous because I thought of it first."

"You've found me out," Mariva said innocently. "It's exactly how I plan to spend my time with Corln on our next garden walk. Hedge-climbing: one of the main attractions of Bast."

I laughed and turned to the mirror. "Well," I said with a sigh. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." 

"Trust me, you're far more ready then I've ever _been," _Mariva said, grinning, and I stuck my tongue out at her. "Go on," she told me, "before I start making kissing sounds. And that will be awful hard to explain to Aiven if he walks in here." She left her seat and looked me in the face. "You'll do fine," she said reassuringly. "Just remember, everyone here is trying their hardest to make _you _happy. They'll be too busy being nervous to notice if you're nervous." Kissing me on the cheek, she spun me around and opened the door. "Have fun," she said merrily, and closed it tightly. I immediately felt as if I had lost my lifeline.

Aiven was looking at a tapestry went I entered the stairwell, but quickly turned to face me. I swallowed hard. Again, he looked resplendent in the Seers' long, flowing robes. This time, though, he had a sash around his waist, under most of the robes but still visible. On it was a square shaped plaque with a horizontal line cutting it in half. I recognized the picture on the lower part; it was Sontái's crest. The upper part was, at a guess, Aiven's own sign. Again, the white fabric seemed to move though there was no wind. My eyes wandered to the pendant at his neck, the one with the rune on it. "What does that mean?" I asked, raising my eyes to his, which in this light were a dark, dark brown, rather then amber as they were when sunlight hit them. 

It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to reach him, for which I was profoundly grateful. Mariva and I had sent hours on my appearance. My dark, dark red gown, several shades darker then my hair, had a high waist and split skirt. The material of the bodice and overskirt was very sheer, but layered together to make it cloudlike, almost. It floated down at the skirt over the red velvet underskirt, and the edges were embroidered in brilliant gold leaf and flower designs. My hair was pinned to my head in tight coils, except for two long side strands that hung down my face. The red earrings Lady Jainalii had given me when I was presented to Sontái's court were in, and I wore a favorite plain gold ring of mine. A gold chain was around my neck, half way between my neck and the moderately low scoop neckline.

Aiven's eyes swept overly for barely a second before he fixed them on my face, but I was certain - well, almost certain - that he was impressed. He smiled slightly. "A Seer's secret," he said casually, offering his arm.

I stared at it in suspicion. "Aiven, we have a long, narrow stairs to descend, a courtyard to cross, and who knows how much of the castle to navigate before we reach the audience room. Why are you offering your arm now?"

He dropped it like he had been stung. "Instinctive politeness," he muttered. "Lord only knows why I was showing it to _you._" He turned around, jaw clenching, and began to walk down the stairs.

I stared after him in astonishment. "You can't be mad at me!" I burst out. "I haven't done anything! I was just being practical." I moved a few steps after him, then stopped as he turned around to look up at me from three steps below. "You look very nice," I offered weakly, knowing the comment was no help, not to mention that it didn't even begin to cover how Aiven looked.

He looked up, meeting my eyes. "And you look lovely," he said, his face polite, blank. He gestured briskly down the stairs. "We should move. I don't want to be late." He turned around and continued walking down the stairs, as I looked after him, stunned. That was all? A blank face and an impersonal compliment? And I love you too, Aiven, I thought sarcastically as I hurried after him.

"Shouldn't you wait for the special guest at dinner?" I asked as I reached him. "After all, there wouldn't be much of an audience if there's no one to introduce.

He raised an eyebrow. "I have no doubt that you would have managed to get there even if I abandoned you," he said.

"I want to know why you're considering abandoning me," I muttered under my breath. He only smiled, and opened a door. 

I looked into it warily. "What's this?" 

"The Mage-Way." He opened his hand to reveal a flat circular token. "Transportation for the privileged."

"You mean the rich and lazy."

"Well yes," Aiven laughed. "Just about." He stepped inside, and pulled me in with him. I was a little bit uncertain about this, considering how it was supposed to carry people quickly down to the ground. Plus, the room's walls were slightly hazy, so that I couldn't quite see them. They looked like white walls obscured by haze, and when I looked down and up there was a hazy white ceiling and floor. It was slightly unnerving. Aiven closed the door, then pressed the token into a slot in the side. Taking two steps, he stood next to me - and then the colors started.

It was like the white mist turned blue and shot across the room from the ceiling, then one of the side walls shot purple mist then another was projecting green, then a myriad of colors from every conceivable directions, tangling and entwining with each other, though never blending. I felt a slight, stomach lurching sensation and stumbled, tripping. Then, as fast as they had come they were gone, leaving only the white mist and I was receiving a very close view of Aiven's white robed chest.

Blushing furiously, I stumbled upright with the help of Aiven's arms. He was looking slightly amused, which I supposed was better then the indifference he had shown earlier. "Why didn't you hold on to something?" he asked, like it was obvious. He indicated rails on the hazy walls, which I hadn't noticed before.

"Maybe because you didn't tell you and I've never been this way before?"

He looked at me in astonishment as he retrieved his token and opened the door. "Then how did you reach your rooms?"

"I _climbed," _I grumbled, and Aiven burst out laughing.

****************************************************************************************

Considering all the expectations of me acting like an idiot, my introduction was fine. There was no repeat incident like when I was first ate with the Sontái Court, and spilled the bowl of marbles which the serving boys slipped and crashed on. Tonight, I was on my absolute best behavior. I curtsied correctly, spoke correctly, smiled correctly, ate correctly, breathed correctly, blinked correctly - all in all, I felt like a trained dog. At least, I'm sure I would have if I had really been paying much attention to myself rather then what I couldn't do. Most of my attention was fixed on the Emperor.

He was sitting on his throne when I entered, but even sitting, he looked imperial. He was exactly what a classic Emperor should look like; in the middle of his fifties, he was tall, well built, and radiated power. His face was serious but had laugh lines, and his black hair was interspersed with gray. The first thing I noticed about him was the sense of keen brilliance that was held in his eyes.

All right, I lied. The first thing I noticed was that the gold chain he was wearing would go fabulously with my eyes, but that was beside the point. The first _important_ thing I noticed was his intelligence.

Some official at his right introduced me, complete with every title I had, every title the Eternal Lah'nayin had, and every title that was feeling neglected and so had to be brought back into the spotlight for a moment. 

The dinner was small, consisting of only Aiven, Mage-King Sair, Corln, the other Mage - Lauten? - and myself. Oh, and two of the Emperor's advisors, Duke so and so and Vizier so and so, but I was too nervous to pay much attention. I did exactly as Tullon had instructed, and if I mixed up my spoons, no one seemed to notice.

Even Aiven seemed to relax a little. Then, when Vizier so and so started to speak, his eyes glazed over - and with boredom, not a vision. I began to breathe slowly, an not worry about what was going on as much. Small bites, nice smiles, nodding head - I was positive I hadn't given Aiven a single thing to complain about. When the dinner ended, I graciously said goodnight, everyone curtsied and bowed, and the Emperor bid me a warm farewell and left. Then I glided across and out of the room on Aiven's arm, and the door a closed behind us.

I spun around to face Aiven immediately, not caring we were in full view of the soldiers guarding the door. Well?" I exclaimed, "How was I?" I couldn't help grinning, feeling an enormous amount of success. Even Aiven, who had barely said a word to me all dinner, must have been impressed.

"You acted like a true princess," he said blandly.

I frowned, my happiness draining away with his one phrase. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I asked. Aiven didn't seem too fond of real princesses.

He sighed in aggravation. "You're reading too much into it. You were perfect, Laeliena."

Damslae, I corrected silently, unreasonably hurt. "Well, do you think I'll be ready for the banquet?" I asked, forcing a smile.

He shrugged. "Yes. I suppose Tullon's showing you the dances?"

"He did today, but I thought you were going to," I replied, sounding a little irritated myself.

"Why ruin what's working?"

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "All right, Aiven, what's wrong?"

He looked puzzled. "Wrong?"

I glared at him. He glared back at me. One of the guards coughed, and everyone glared at him - including the other two guards, who had been listening intensely to our conversation.

Aiven started walking, so I hurried to catch up. Neither of us said anything until we exited the main castle and started walking across to the Towers. In the middle of the lantern lit path, Aiven stopped and turned to face me. I was an inch away from crashing into him; both of us immediately stepped back.

"Damslae," he said, looking at me, seemingly troubled - and when was Aiven ever troubled? "I - are you sure - ?" He stopped, and just looked at me.

"What?" I asked, half bemused, half annoyed.

He looked away, jaw clenching and unclenching. "About the -" he started again, then stopped with a groan. "Never mind," he said tightly.

Never mind? Not likely. "Tell me," I pressed, tilting my head.

He shut his eyes. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I'll take care of it."

I looked at him warily. "You'll take care of what?"

He shook his head, and I stared at him in growing aggravation. "What are you going on about?" I demanded.

"Nothing."

"Obviously not nothing, if you're having so much trouble talking about it," I said scathingly. "You can't possibly not tell me after you've gone on about this mystery.

His teeth clenched. "I don't want you hurt, Damslae," he finally said, and then flushed and started walking towards the Towers, as if he had said too much. I followed, bewildered to his meaning but unwilling to press. What did he think would hurt me?

"Have you found anything else out about removing Johen's stone?" I asked in an attempt to change the topic.

He stiffened. "Yes," he said tightly.

"And?" I prodded, feeling my excitement rise. "When can it happen?"

"It will be soon. I've already sent out letters to some professional Healers.

I smiled at his back. "Thank you," I said sincerely. I hesitated, then continued; "How painful will it be?"

He paused, then determinedly continued forward. "It will not hurt Johen very much, or very long," he said stiffly.

"But there's the possibility of death," I fretted, knowing I should stop talking but unable to. 

For the second time, Aiven spun around. This time his eyes were blazing. Before I met Aiven, I had never thought brown could look so much like fire, I thought dazedly.

"Your precious Johen will be fine, all right? I'm doing everything possible so that he'll be fine. There's no need for you to worry about him in the least. I'll take care of it."

"So majestic of you, taking care of everything," I automatically retorted, then could have slapped myself. I was so used to shooting answering volleys that it often seemed hard to carry a calm, rational discussion with Aiven. Actually, I didn't think I'd ever had a rational discussion with Aiven before. We always became too wrapped up in what we were talking about.

Aiven pushed his hair back in a frustrated motion. "You wouldn't want to take care of this," he said in a clipped voice that I heard truth in. I swallowed, wondering exactly what entailed in removing a Quov'in stone.

In silence, we entered the Tower, and Aiven produced the Mage token again, and we moved quickly through the swirling lights. I thought he was going to leave me at my door without a simple goodnight, and I had too much pride to be the first one to speak. Leaning against my door, I watched him take several steps up the staircase.

Be that way, I thought sulkily, turning and opening the door. I felt another completely irrational knot in my stomach, and my eyes felt too heavy.

"Damslae?"

I spun around, to see a fleeting smile cross Aiven's face. "I don't think I ever told you that you look breathtaking," he said, his eyes meeting mine. He smiled again, a little sadly, and then disappeared up the stairway.

I went to sleep with a much lighter heart then I would have a few moments before.


	21. The Bastian Ball

A/N: Long chapter — hope you like it! The war that I've been leading up to will start really soon. . . I printed this story out, and was reading it straight through — AHHHHHH! Oh my god, - some of the things I said. "Johen was my closest friends — too bad he was dead four months of a knife wound." I was like WHAT? No . . . Johen's not dead. Or, "I had no friends at all in Yvonhe" — what about Johen and Tari and Dein? Then there was the whole Aiven thing happily becoming a Seer at like eleven . . . Grr. So to any of you who have good memories and remember my stupid mistakes, or to relatively new readers who've read most of this straight through, I'm SORRY! 

Ahem. Anyways . . .

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Tullon joined Mariva and me in our rooms just after we finished a light breakfast. The three of us stepped outside in the back of the castle, near the maze. Mariva and I exchanged a glance and immediately burst into laughter, while Tullon stood by looking bewildered.

"Never mind," Mariva said, patting her cousin's cheek patronizingly. She was still laughing as she walked off to join Corln, who seemed to have a mysterious ability to find Mariva no matter where she was.

"So," I said, sitting on the edge of a fountain on the large castle lawn, "you wanted to test my magic." I drew my knees up to my chin and clasped my hands around them, gazing up at Tullon like a puppy. "I'm ready."

Tullon looked at my innocent pose and just shook his head. Before I realized what he was going to do, he tipped me into the water.

It was cold, and wet, as water is want to be, and I didn't like it at all. Instead of standing there gaping like a fish or crying my eyes out, I launched myself at Tullon, determined that if I would be wet, so would he. His yelp was very satisfying as I knocked him down to the lawn.

"Not," he gasped as he finally managed to sit up, "very princess like."

"I was provoked," I said with my nose in the air, "by an action that wasn't very prince-like."

We sat there, laughing. The lords and ladies walking past us weren't sure what to make of the two youngsters dressed in expensive clothing, yet dripping wet. Tullon just waved to everyone who walked by. "All right," he finally said when the last pair of nobles had hurried away from us. He twisted so that he sat, cross-legged, across from me. "The first thing I want to do is measure your magic - determined how much you have, what kind it is. Here." He fished through a bag he had brought with him, and pulled out a perfectly round stone. I would have called it a pearl if pearls could be as large as my fist, and lavender. Tullon handed it to me, and I cradled it in my hands, admiring the light bouncing off it.

"It's called a _nafginian,_" he told me.

I made a face. "Not the prettiest of names."

He laughed. "My apologies. I'll petition the High Mage Council to see if they'll change it for you."

I sniffed. "Do."

The first thing Tullon wanted me to do was focus on the _nafginian _completely, concentrating all my thoughts on it, in it, for about ten minutes. "Hopefully, the stone will do the rest -"

"The _stone?_ But it's inanimate."

"Um . . . partially. Just, if you feel it pull you in, let it. Go along with it." He made a frustrated sound and face. "Sorry I can't be more helpful. I can't actually use a _nafginian, _so I'm just repeating what other have said."

"Can most people use one?"

He hesitated a moment. "Don't think about that right now. After the _nafginian _pulls you in, let all your thoughts go. Rather - let the stone have them."

"Tullon . . ." I said skeptically. "It's a _stone._ I'd rather just pawn it for a dozen silvers then try to put myself into it."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"I'll just sit on the edge of the fountain, and you - concentrate."

I made a face, then looked down at the stone in my hand. _Hello, rock, _I thought, smiling slightly. Concentrate on it? How?

In the end, after wondering for five minutes or so, I just blanked my mind as much as possible and looked at the stone, letting thoughts drift in and out of my mind while focusing on the feel and look of the _nafginian. _In less then a minute, something clasped onto my mind. Instinctively I tried to pull away, before remembering Tullon's words. I cautiously let myself go. 

It felt - at first, like fingertips were being gently pressed onto my head at every point. Later, like hands were cradling my face, more gentle, as if they were holding me up on all sides. The _nafginian _was guiding me, I registered vaguely. It was shifting through various senses and scenes - a waterfall, the taste of cinnamon, a falcon flying, the feel of sand in my hands, the howling wind, a castle of crystal, the scent of roses, the feeling of a plush carpet beneath my feet. Some of the images stayed in my mind, while others slipped away. It was like the _nafginian _was tossing things at me, and some were recognized, finding something in me that matched with it, while others were unfamiliar, unrelated to me. 

The castle of crystal; the smell feel of rain and fog and water; a shining cluster of jewels, the smell of something almost like saffron, but not. A girl - a girl that was me, but wasn't. Dressed in a robe styled thousands of years ago, holding a staff, wearing a circlet. A princess. And someone behind her, someone I couldn't quite see . . .

And lastly, something the _nafginian_ didn't throw at me, something that came out of me in response to it, a pull, a power that had everything to do with anything, but that I couldn't understand. It whipped around me, pulling me every way. It was sights, and scents, and textures and tastes and sounds and it was none and all. In its purest form, it was _choice, _and it was mine alone.

A second later, I was thrust out of wherever I had been, back into the courtyard with Tullon sitting on the fountain, and several young servant children playing with noble children, probably against the wishes of both sets of parents. 

The _nafginian _was still in my hands, but now it had shattered into dozens of pieces, little shards of what it had once been.

"Was that supposed to happen?" I asked, and discovered my throat was dry, like I hadn't spoken in a long time.

Tullon started, seeming to only now notice I had snapped out of whatever trance I had been in. Slowly, he shook his head, eyes fixed on the shards. "No," he said, and when he looked at me again, he appeared a little wary. "What happened?"

In as much detail as possible, I described it to him. He took the remains of the _nafginian _and put them back in his pouch. "I think," he said carefully, refusing to meet my eyes, "that we shouldn't try to determined anything about your magic again - at least until I can talk to someone about this. It would be best if you don't tell anyone about this."

I nodded my agreement. Except for Mariva, of course, but I didn't even consider myself lying when I told him I wouldn't tell anyone, though that night I told his cousin everything.

"For now," Tullon continued, finally meeting my eyes, and grinning, "I think we should just work on your dancing and etiquette. You may have survived the Emperor, but the ball is in a week. We'll want to work on that."

And so we did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"One two three, one two three, spin two three, drop two three," Tullon said as we spun around one of the palace's empty ballrooms. This one was small and isolated; Lord Seer Corln had promised we wouldn't run into anyone here. For the last week, Mariva and her cousin had been perfecting my court manners in preparation for the ball tonight. Aiven had joined us occasionally, when he could steal a moment away from the ever-increasing amount of Seer meetings and war councils. When he did, Tullon insisted he rest, not dance or teach. Aiven scowled, but agreed. I began to suspect these mysterious councils tired him out more then he was willing to admit. To my surprise, I wished Aiven was with us more often. I'd gone four months spending all my time in his presence, often even sleeping in the same room. Now, seeing him for less then an hour in an entire week, I was wishing he was there more often. I smiled a little sadly. Who else was I supposed to argue with?

"One two three, one two _dip_, one spin spin, one two right left."

I found myself muttering along with Tullon again, whispering the steps as we danced. Tullon glared at me and I immediately shut up. I had been muttering while I danced the entire week; it was the only way to remember the steps. My largest fear was not tripping in front of everyone but instead saying "one two three" under my breath while my dance partner was trying to speak with me. I loved to dance, but memorizing large amounts of foot work was far less fun then dancing around the city square in Cyri any way I wanted to, or performing a simple country dance.

"Quick!" Mariva called out from where she was watching, "What is the name of the Queen of Itsoli?"

"Um . . ." I stammered.

"Quick, quick!" Mariva called, snapping her fingers. 

"Something that sounds like toad!" I called across the room to her. She mock glared at me and I stopped dancing. "Well, I don't know," I said defensively. "There's only so much a mind can hold."

"Queen Taiynode," Mariva said, biting back a smile. "And when introduced to her, you'll say . . .?"

"My, what large jewels you wear. I don't suppose you would miss them?"

Mariva snorted, and it was my turn to scold. "Tsk, tsk, Mariva of Cillyon, that's not very lady like." I dropped down next to her on a velvet bench, with Tullon standing before us. "Why don't we use the rest of the afternoon for something fun?"

"No fun," Tullon said with a smile. "The ball is _tonight, _goose. We might be done with reviewing, but you'll have to spend the rest of the day preparing for the actual thing."

I chose to ignore the second sentence, as if that would make it go away. "I'm not a goose," I muttered darkly instead, slouching down in my seat. He had taken to calling me that when I did anything he found amusing, after I had tried to free the geese caged in one of the gardens.

I thought it was a mistake, all right? Why would anyone want to cage _geese?_

Tullon smirked, and continued, "You do know Aiven and Corln will meet you in the Waiting Chambers six hours past noon?"

"Of course," Mariva said, then looked at her cousin mischievously. "And just who are you escorting to the ball?"

"No one," he said with a glare. Mariva and I glanced at each other, then sat up, interested.

"What's her name?" I asked innocently. Tullon continued to glare, his arms crossed.

"You know," Mariva said, turning to me, "we could just ask Corln and Aiven to scry for us. I'm sure they'd be more then happy to . . ."

Tullon groaned. "I'm sure they wouldn't." He sighed deeply, then rolled his eyes upward. "Her name is Princess Tivette. I met her three days ago."

"And what's she like?" Mariva asked with a grin. "I don't think I've heard of her," she continued with a frown.

Tullon shot a superior expression. "That is because she wasn't born a princess. She was recently widowed."

"Tullon!" I gasped, clasping a hand to my heart, "I'm shocked!" I feigned a faint, collapsing to the floor and sprawling out limply. After a moment I looked up. "Widowed?" I said in a normal voice. "How _old_ is she?"

"Seventeen. She was married two years ago to the prince of Clait."

"Clait," Mariva and I murmured together, exchanging glances. There was something familiar about the name.

"How did the prince die?" Mariva asked.

Tullon looked a little uneasy. "Murdered."

"Recently?" Mariva asked in surprise, and Tullon nodded. "Tull! Now I really _am _shocked."

"Clait!" I called out, remembering. Aiven had told it to me weeks ago — the crown prince of Clait had been murdered, and there was something about a corrupted Seer and a group of unhappy countries. I focused on Tullon, standing up off the ground. "All right, Tullon, explain."

"Explain?" Tullon echoed, but he looked a little sheepish. Mariva looked confused.

"Clait's prince was killed by . . . a rival country. But their war was to be fought in the kingdom between them . . ."

"Sarlainth!" Mariva finished for me, her eyes flashing as she remembered. "And the old Sarlainth seer became corrupt and invited the darkness there, and — now it's being used as a battlefield?"

Tullon nodded, giving in. "Yes. All true."

"So are you escorting the princess or protecting her?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes. "What need is there for protection at a ball?" he asked, but the question had gotten to him.

"At least it's less scandalous," Mariva said sadly. She couldn't keep back a small smile. "And here I was, looking forward to the drama."

"My family hates me," Tullon grumbled, and Mariva and I were laughing as we walked back to our rooms.

In the back of my mind, however, I made a note to ask Aiven about Clait as soon as possible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There were letters for us on a silver platter when we returned to our rooms.

"Why," I asked, frowning, "would anyone waste a _silver plate _on holding letters?"

Mariva laughed. "Be glad there aren't gold inlays. Look," she said, scanning the pile, "these two are for you."

I was delighted and surprised that anyone had written to me. I picked up the first one, dropping down into an armchair. _Lady Damslae of Cyri, _it was addressed, in curly, elegant letter. When I opened it and glanced at the bottom for the signature, it read _Lady Jainalii of Korins._

Dear Damslae;

I have dearly missed you these weeks. I can but hope you are well and taken care of. Your lack of adult supervision worries me, my dear, and I hope you will stay out of trouble. Know that if you are ever in need of a place to stay, I will gladly welcome you. Please look on the jewels and dress I gave you, and wear them freely. I have enclosed a bracelet of silk as well, with charms for safety and happiness mage-embroidered in. Please write back, and let me know how you are doing.

Lady Jainalii of Korins

That was kind of her, I thought as I folded the letter up. It was a little strange to have an adult actually caring about what happened to me, but not, I decided, a bad strange. I looked down at the flat, inch wide strip of silk, about nine inches long. It was a gorgeous shade of blue that didn't really match me at all. I couldn't see the charms supposedly sewn in, but didn't really care. Smiling, I pushed up my sleeve and tied it around my forearm.

The second letter was thicker, with no name on the front; when I opened it a strand of diamond drops on a silver chain fell into my hand, the type meant to be worn across my forehead in a V and tied into my hair. I held it up to the light, deciding it was not diamond after all; though clear, the crystal shone with bright colors when lights hit it. The note was short:

_Your circlet hasn't been found yet . . . It might be appropriate to wear this instead, if you like._

Aiven.

This took a little more though then Lady Jainalii's gift.

Aiven may have just been being polite and giving me something fit for a princess to wear. It may not have even been from him at all - he might just be the messenger. For all I knew, it came from the Mage-King Sair.

Oddly, I was almost wishing it came from Aiven.

Then there was a circlet part. First: I had no desire to where one. Honestly - a _circlet? _It would probably slip off, hit my nose on the way down, and then some crystal goblet which would most likely be right in front of me. The wine - I decided it would be red - would fly from the goblet and soak into all the important royals' (white) clothes that were standing around me.

I blinked the scenario from my mind. No circlets. Bad idea.

Second: _find _my circlet? I already had one? That is, there was one already made for the Princess of Lahtorli? Wouldn't it make more sense if the circlet was _in _Lahtorli? Or did they just expect it to show up at the Bastian Palace?

Shaking my head, I carefully placed the strand of near-diamonds on my bedside table, then started to get ready for the ball.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It ended up taking us four hours to get ready for the ball, mainly because Mariva and my underdresses had been ruined when one of the servants had brought her four year old nieces in, and they had used our clothes to make big, beautiful tents.

And, all right, because Mariva and I couldn't resist playing in the ripped dress tents for half an hour. Giggling, we fed each other grapes and felt like desert princesses, with all our cushions and tapestries strewn about below the draping underskirts.

"I never noticed how much fabric they were made out of," Mariva commented as we sprawled beneath them, right before one of the maids hurried us out to get ready. I wore what my seamstress - sometime this week my retinue had expanded - assured me was a masterpiece. I had assured her that it better be, considering the amount of times pins had been thrust into my flesh.

Mariva was the one that had convinced me to wear this style, one from the southern continent that would stand out. It was black with lots of red trimming and ruffles, circling my shoulders and lying in layers on my skirt. When I asked if it was exactly princessy, Mariva laughed at me. "You're a princess. Whatever you wear is automatically princessy."

"At least I'll stand out," I said a little dubiously, draping the near-diamond circlet over my forehead. At the moment the bright colors it was reflected were only reds, matching my hair and gown. That was all I needed - a style conscious rock. "Maybe a little too much . . ."

"You look gorgeous. That's all that matters," Mariva said, sitting confidently in her classic Imperial style gown, split skirt and elaborate high bodice. "Everyone else will be trying to outshine each other with dresses in some variation of this style, while you're wearing a completely different type." She grinned at my in the mirror. "I still think you should have gone with the Torish-desert style."

"The one with floaty scarves as a shirt and a stip of gauze as a shirt? No thank you," I said wryly.

"But it would be so much _fun _to wear something like that," Mariva said wistfully.

"Then you should."

She snorted. "And I would - if I wasn't only a duke's daughter as opposed to a princess with no relations to reprimand you, or if I wasn't betrothed to the influential Seer of the Bastian Empire."

"You have a point," I conceded, and we laughed.

We were showed down to an antechamber by one of the servants - one of the Waiting Chambers, the rooms specifically designed to be waited in until ready to descend to the Grand Ballroom. We stood there nervously, glancing at the tall grandfather clock every five seconds.

"They should be here now," I said, pulling at an annoying piece of red lace.

Mariva nodded. "And the ball starts in just a few minutes. Or, that is, the ballrooms already full and we'll be descending in a few minutes."

In unison, we glanced towards the doors again. This time, they swung open, and Aiven and Corln entered. Like usually at Court functions, they wore sweeping silvery robes. And like usual, I started breathing a little faster when I saw Aiven. I resisted reaching up and touching the near-diamonds. 

Corln took Mariva's hand and led her to a corner, leaving Aiven and me staring at each other.

"That's . . . different," Aiven said after a second.

"Different in a good way or a bad way?" 

"Different in a southern way."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Aiven," I said sarcastically, feeling a little hurt.

"But I like it."

"I am overjoyed," I said sarcastically.

Though just because something's said sarcastically does not make it less true.

Aiven just bowed sardonically. 

"Thank you for the . . . " I trailed off, unsure of what to call it, instead touching my fingers to the jewels strung across my forehead.

He shrugged. "If I had known you were going for exotic I would have given you a peacock's feather."

I took a deep breath to yell at him before I saw his mouth twitching and realized he was teasing me. "Oh, leave me alone," I told him. "I'm perfectly happy without any feathers."

"Are you sure? I could wear one too. We would match." He was fully smiling now.

For some unexplainable reason, my heart twisted suddenly, flipping in my chest, as Aiven's warm honey colored eyes stared into my own. My breathing was coming a little faster, and again, my heart flipped.

_Take up acrobatics some other time,_ I told myself harshly. I forced my gaze to somewhere behind Aiven's head. "Well? Are you ready?

"Are you?"

I snorted in the most un-princesslike manner possible. "Is that ever going to happen?" I watched as Corln and Mariva, arm and arm, heads tilted together, slipped through the curtains covering the doorway. I turned back to Aiven, sure he could see the pathetic panic racing across my face. He offered me his arm, and his other hand slipped a feather into my hand resting on his arm.

"Conjuring now? Careful, Aiven, or you'll turn Mage like."

He only smiled again, and led me through the curtains into a long hallway. Mariva and Corln had already gone this way. At the end were the doors leading to the Grand Staircase that descended into the ballroom. Each door was made completely of one plank of dark wood. They were inlaid with swirling patterns of mother-of-pearl, and jewels sure to catch the light of the Grand Ballroom and reflect it in dazzling colors back at the ensemble.

"Breathe," Aiven whispered to me as we faced the doors.

"Actually, I was planning to hold my breath until I suffocate," I sniped, my nervousness plainly showing.

"You've faced the King and Court of Sontái, you've been housed at several noble homes on the trip here, and your closest companions are royalty and Seers. There is nothing to be afraid of."

"Except tripping and tumbling down the lovely grand staircase."

"I would go down with you."

"While that would normally make me feel better, I think in this case all the guests would take you falling as some sort of prophetic sign, while if I fell I would just look stupid."

"Walk," he ordered, and I had no choice to do so or be left without an escort.

My first view of the Grand Ballroom was obliterated be the blinding lights flashing in my eyes. Once I had passed that, I was able to see huge chandeliers, ten feet in diameter, multiple rings of crystals reflecting and tossing the light from the candles back and forth. The walls were hung with flags of every visiting kingdom. 

The room, large as it was, was full. Mariva had said there were five hundred countries being represented, mostly by the highest-ranking Mage or part of the royalty with Mage Powers - occasionally the reigning monarch. There were at least ten thousand people in the room. She had also been right on the style of dresses, all Imperial style except for mine. And the jewels . . . Even the clumsiest thief would walk away with a bagful of unmissed rocks, they were in such abundance.

When the horns started playing, it took me a moment to realize they were playing to announce _me._ And Aiven - but he was mostly just my escort. I shivered as the last notes rang out in the otherwise silent ballroom, and the herald announced:

"Her Serene Royal Highness, Princess Laeliena Ellenviete of Lahtorli, Jewel of the Radiant Glories, Blooded to the Kin of the East -"

"I was wondering about that," I whispered to Aiven, "they said those when I was introduced to the Emperor, too. Who's the Kin of the East and what's jewel of the Radiant Glories?"

"Be quiet," Aiven answered.

"-of the Eternal Lahnay'in, Empress of the Stars -"

"These are all really just empty titles aren't they?" I asked.

"I said, _be quiet. _You're being introduced."

"I already know who I am. I shouldn't have to listen."

"Start walking."

"What?"

"_Start walking."_ He practically dragged me along with him as he began to descend the stairs. I hadn't even realized they had finished introducing me.

"All right, all right, I'm walking," I hissed, forcing my feet to step down each step. Lightly, I rehearsed to myself. Gracefully move from stair to stair. You are a butterfly. You _are _a butterfly.

Aiven's snort of laughter made me turn my head. When I met his gaze, he whispered, "You _did _realize you actually said you _are _a butterfly,' outloud?"

Kill me now, I thought to whatever deity was listening. "So?" I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush.

Aiven was still grinning when we reached the floor.

The guests pressed apart, allowing us to walk to the center of the ballroom, standing on the golden center that marked it. Aiven placed one hand on my hip and took the other in his hand, and waited as the orchestra played the introductory chord to the Opening Ballad. Around us, all the other dancers paired up as the first song started.

"Remember," Aiven said as we took our first step, his eyes gleaming, "you _are _a butterfly."

I couldn't help but burst into laughter that was only fueled when Aiven gave me a chiding glance. "I can't help it," I was finally able to mutter. "Honestly, Aiven, if I'm supposed to be acting princess-y you shouldn't make me laugh in the middle of the first song."

"Well, pardon me if I was being inappropriate. I was just trying to give you useful advice."

"Liar," I sang softly, and a slow smile spread across his face.

It was about then that I realized we were actually dancing together. We hadn't _ever _danced together before. 

"Do Seers have to take etiquette classes?" I asked lightly, to break the silence that surrounded only us.

His smile widened. "Yes."

"You're joking!"

"No, actually I'm seriously." He expertly whirled me around, then drew me back into his arms. Not an uncomfortable place to be, if I thought about. I was, however, trying my best _not _to think about it. Instead I concentrated on the steps, though I hardly needed to. Even if I forgot them, Aiven was such an expert dancer, he would be able to get me through.

"Why didn't you ever help me learn to dance?" I asked casually. "You're just as good as Tullon."

"My pride thanks you," he responded - but it wasn't an answer. And, all right, he had been incredibly busy with the Seer meetings, but he had said in the Royal Maze that he had originally planned to teach me. And I rather wished he had. He tilted his head to one side, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. "You're not half-bad for a girl off the streets, either," he teased.

"Someday, Aiven, I'll take you into _my _world and see how you fair."

He laughed. "The back alleys of a dark city? I'm afraid I like my neck too much to lose it to an outlaw's knife."

"Like you wouldn't be able to defend your self," I scoffed. 

"Of course I could," he said calmly. "By not going in the first place." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

"Coward," I whispered tauntingly. 

The smile suddenly and unexpectedly died. He stiffened, holding me away - I flushed slightly, realizing how close we had been in the first place. Aiven had blocked his face, and I knew that coward had been the absolute worst thing to say. _Warrior, _they called him_. _What knight wanted to be called a coward?

The Opening Ballad finished before I could gain the nerve to apologize. Aiven bowed stiffly, and I curtseyed. Then I was conveniently handed off to Corln, who had been dancing nearby. 

For the first measures, both Corln and I watched Aiven and Mariva dance before we almost hit another couple.

"Oops," I muttered, peeking up at Corln, who was grinning widely. 

"Slightly lovesick?" he asked, spinning me around.

"Slightly dizzy," I responded, glaring. "I don't like Ai - anyone like that."

"Of course you don't." He let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I'm the only lovesick one here." He glanced at Mariva.

"The two of you seem perfect together," I told him. I hadn't spoken more then a few words with Corln, but Mariva was a common subject I could talk about forever. I just hoped he didn't feel like talking about _his _best friend as much as I could about mine.

Corln looked pleased, and began to talk about Mariva in such glowing tones I knew he had to be madly in love with her. 

"But you, Highness - " he said, and I winced at the title, "have you decided to stay and work with us?"

I would have shrugged if we weren't dancing. "There's nothing else in life for me."

I saw a sharp glimmer of intelligence in his eyes. "There is Lahtorli."

"I don't know anything about running a kingdom."

"Not consciously," he countered. "But you are the reincarnation of a girl who lived and died for her kingdom's sake. I'm sure some of her knowledge is in you."

"Somewhere," I said, slightly bitterly. "I doubt I'll ever find it."

"Don't doubt yourself," he said, then bowed as the song ended. 

The third song I danced with Tullon, and then there was a feast. I wasn't sure the point of having a feast in the middle of a ball — it seemed designed to slow you down after eating food. Most of the ladies seemed to see it that way as well; most of the food eaten was fruit, small pastries, and wine.

It turned out I was one of the guests of honor, which no one had felt the need to tell me. I sat at the Emperor's right hand, listening to him talk about the kingdom and trying not to act like a fool or ask how he kept his crown from falling off. 

I suppose that would count as acting like a fool.

Afterward, there was an hour before the dancing began again, where literally thousands of people were introduced to me. I smiled, nodded, and promptly forgot their names even before they had turned away. The only one that stuck in my mind as the Queen whose name sounded like toad, and the princess Tullon was escorting.

Her name was Tivette of Clait — which I had completely forgotten to ask Aiven about — and she was beautiful in the way that made every other girl feel big and ungainly.

Well, I didn't. Then again, I don't have much in the way of self-doubt about my beauty.

She was very thin, and very blond, and very white, and very blue-eyed, and instead of looking like a fragile flower looked instead like a winter rose that refused to wilt. She didn't say much, only smiled uncertainly and curtsied to me. Like always, I felt uncomfortable. I still found it hard to consider myself ranking anyone.

When the songs started up again, I danced with princes and Mages and Seers whose names I had all forgotten and manners all seemed the same. I had to stifle a yawn more then once. Balls certainly weren't all they were supposed to be. I glanced around to find Mariva and share my opinion, but changed my mind when I saw her. She was dancing with Corln, her entire body radiating happiness. I looked away. If you had someone to share it with, I supposed the balls were more interesting. I saw a group of young ladies laughing and flirting with some youths. Or, I mentally added, if you had friends to share it with. Mariva and Corln were too wrapped up in each other — not that I blamed them — Tullon seemed absorbed in his widowed princess, and Aiven was ignoring me. 

Was it my fault he was sensitive?

"Can I have this dance?" yet another faceless, nameless person asked, and I wanted to scream, _No! You can't!_ Though tempted, I didn't, instead allowing my present partner to pass me into the arms of a new one. 

"Hello, Princess," he said, his voice on the verge of laughter. When I looked up, I started. "Remember me?"

I did, and flushed, a little embarrassed. "Lord Seer Tyron," I said. I hadn't seen Aiven's rival since that day in the garden, when I'd acted like I only vaguely knew Aiven, and hadn't introduced myself until Mariva reached us.

His blue-gray eyes stared into mine. "So formal now?" he teased. "Last time there was no Lord Seer' or Your Excellency.' In fact," he continued, spinning me as expertly as Aiven had, "I believe you found Seers and royalty boring. They all blend together, don't they?" He was grinning wickedly.

I raised my head. "Indeed they do," I told him steadily. "Not a single one stands out from the others."

He winced. "Do you include Seers in that mob of royals? Or yourself?"

"Seers," I said in mock disgust, as if I could not bother wasting my breath on them. "As for myself?" I teased, "I am no simple princess — I am Laeliena of Lahtorli, daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin — beautiful as Annoia."

His eyes were appreciative, but laughing. "Do you even know who Annoia is, Your Highness?"

"No, but if doesn't change the beauty of either of us, does it?" I shot back.

He laughed. "Does Aiven appreciate how lucky he is to have found you?"

I allowed my recent anger and hurt to at Aiven ignoring me to color my words. "No, but he has expressed how much of a burden I am." Or something along those lines.

Lord Seer Tyron's eyebrows shot up. "Then he does not deserve you. But I suppose he would rather be fighting then staying safe, even for the Daughter's sake."

"I'd be nicer if I were him," I said lightly. I tossed my hair over my shoulder, knowing I was acting like a spoiled child but not particularly caring. In the back of my mind I registered that I was even being ridiculously insulted over Aiven ignoring me. I still didn't care. "Otherwise he may find me picking the enemies side to win just to be spiteful."

Tyron's eyes widened slightly, focusing on something behind me. I didn't need to turn to know who it was, and closed my eyes.

"That would be foolish."

Aiven's voice was angry. That was all right; I could be angry too.

"It was a _joke, _Aiven," I said scathingly. "Learn to recognize them."

"You consider murdering thousands a laughing manner?" he said scornfully, making my cheeks burn.

"Leave the princess alone," Tyron said, jumping to my defense. He glared at his rival. "It's a ball. People are supposed to have fun, not be serious."

"Have fun somewhere with someone else," Aiven said, also glaring.

"Aiven, you're not my keeper. I can talk to whoever I want," I said stubbornly.

"Yes, and you can walk on hot coals, but that doesn't make it a good idea."

Tyron looked pointedly at the people dancing around us, glancing at us curiously. "We're in the middle of a set, warrior," he said coldly. "If you want to dance, come back later. _If _the princess will have you." He smoothly pulled us back into the rhythm of the music, twirling with all the other dancers.

"The two of you really don't like each other," I commented.

He laughed dryly. "That's an understatement. The two of you don't seem to get along that well either."

I made a non-committing sound.

"Did he tell you-" Tyron began, glancing in Aiven's direction — and then stopping. He completely froze where he was, hands tightening on my arms painfully, then falling slack to hang freely. His eyes glazed as I had seen Aiven's do, and he started to shake. I glanced around to get someone to help, then stopped in astonishment. Every other Seer in the room looked like Tyron, all several hundred. In unison, they turned to the west, gazing out the huge windows at the setting sun. An inhumanly cry rose, and it was almost impossible to believe it came from the bodies of the Seers — in fact, I was not sure it did. What I was certain of was that every single Seer started to glow, and at the same instant slipped into unconsciousness, falling to the floor.

My first glance was not for my dancing partner, but a frantic search for Aiven. He stood alone, the only Seer who had not fallen. His wide, colorless eyes focused on mine — then he, too, collapsed.


	22. Healing

A/N: Ugh . . . this isn't the best chapter. I tried to explain about Laeli's magic and set up stiff for the war (Yay! It's finally here! Only took a hundred-odd pages to start. ^_~) So it's not really action filled, but I promise the next will be more so. Oh, and I'm going to post an ATSMtPS chapter within the week, and _probably _one on Court Spy. 

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No one moved, caught in the horror of the simultaneous collapse. My mind went blank for a moment. I wasn't scared; I was uncomprehending. I hesitated another moment as I allowed everything to sink in. Unsure of whether to check the fallen Seer at my feet or rush over to Aiven, I took a hesitant step towards the latter, then looked back at Tyron. He lay sprawled on the floor, dark hair strewn across his pale face. All the color had drained out of it as all the motion had from his body. Around the room, people had started moving, bending over, calling things through the air. With a last glance in Aiven's direction I saw a wall of people surrounding him - presumably caring for him. I turned to Tyron, kneeling down beside him.

His hand was freezing; what's more, it hurt to hold. Lancing bolts of pain shot through my hand like icicles when I touched him. Carefully I brushed his hair away, for that at least didn't hurt. I checked for his pulse quickly, rubbing my fingers as I took them away. It was slow and faint, and I could barely tell he was breathing. His chest didn't seem to fall or rise, and I could feel only an almost indiscernible bit of air coming out of his mouth or nose.

People were beginning to panic around us. "Send for a Healer!" I heard shouted over and over. Guests were milling about, sobbing, yelling. I saw uniformed people enter, soldiers trying to keep order. Some of the men were hoisting the fallen Seers, carrying them from the room. Healers had entered, surrounding people, their green robes standing out brightly as they snapped orders. I looked towards Aiven, but he was lost from view in the swarm of people. I clamped down on the urge to panic, to tear through the crowd and find him.

Half a sentence floated from memory as I stared down at Tyron's limp form. I had mocked Aiven, once, about being choosing to be difficult, about leaving, then had been curious about what would happen if I did. _We lose the protection, the healing. We lose the assurance that no matter what happens there will be some safety._

Safety? I thought now, forehead scrunching worriedly. As for healing . . . Desperately I grasped Tyron's hands, shutting out the cold knives attacking me. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I hadn't when Tullon gave me that _nafginian _earlier either. I tried to pull the feelings back into my mind, trying to recapture whatever there was in the hope something would help. 

_Castle of crystal; rain and fog and water; jewels, shining brightly; the saffron that wasn't -_

I latched onto the scent, which threatened to overpower me if I didn't do something with it. A tight tension was gathering in my lower neck and collarbone, but I mentally pushed right past that, picturing the odd smell traveling through my arms and hands into Tyron as the Healer's described their craft. To my delight, the pain in my hands was gone. Unfortunately, Tyron was still lying prone.

I kept trying to push the healing, for lack of a better word, into him, but he wouldn't accept it. It seemed like it could almost be right, like if I just fixed it a little, turned the jigsaw piece a little to the left, it would lock into the puzzle. I pushed harder, wishing I knew more about what I was doing, rather then making it up as I went along. With a harder push, I lost control, and the power seemed to flip away from me, becoming stronger then I could hold by myself.

Then I felt it latch onto Tyron, locked in like I had been unable to force it to of my own accord. Not a puzzle piece, then, but a magnet. It was like pushing two identical sides closer, and feeling them rebound, not touch, when all you had to do was flip one over and they would attach. 

The near-saffron scent was suffocating me, and a hint of almost-clover came as well. Idly, I wondered if this was a good or a bad thing. As it was, I was too busy pushing all the energy into Tyron, now that he would accept it. 

His bluish-gray eyes snapped open, a look of bewilderment on his face that would have made me laugh any other time. Now I couldn't even manage the upward tilt of my lips; instead, I keeled over sideways.

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"Your Highness? Your Highness, can you hear me?"

Who? I thought dreamily. I ignored the voice, concentrating on the inside of my head rather than outside. I was bouncing lazily over rooftops, just bouncing -

"Your Royal Highness? Are you awake?" A cold, clammy hand shook my arm briefly, then disappeared. I was preparing to burrow deeper into my blankets when something suspiciously like smelling salts was shoved directly underneath my nose. I began coughing violently and shoving backwards, desperate to get away from the salts that reminded me of the overwhelming not-saffron.

I was in a room that was definitely not my own. It was decorated in the same way my room in the Calvashri Tower had been designed, and for an instant I thought I was back there and the past week had been a dream. 

"You are awake," someone said in a satisfied voice. I tuned my attention to a short woman in a green robe, wearing the irritating expression all adults share when they're patronizing anyone more then thirty seconds younger than them. "I am Healer Gelsia. You have undergone severe shock, Your Highness. You must rest now, and soon someone will be along to explain." She curtsied. "Would you like some tea, Your Highness?"

Words tripped through my mind before I was able to force anything out. "I shouldn't be in bed," I finally said. "I need - I need to speak with the Seers. They'll want to see me," I said with sudden certainly, wanting to share whatever I had done, and to make sure Aiven was fine. 

She curtsied again, her smile a little forced. "I am sure you are very worried about the Seers, but that will be explained soon. Don't worry, some of the most capable Healers are with them now. You should just lie back -"

"No, you don't understand," I broke in. "I _need _to see them. I can help."

"Your Highness," the Healer said, looking like she was reaching for patience and it was slipping out of her grasp. "Don't worry. Everyone's all right. The Seers' will be fine. You - like a good deal of the other queens and princesses and ladies - should just rest. Fainting is a terrible ordeal."

The woman looked like she was about to roll her eyes at the high strung court ladies, and sarcasm was just an inch away in her last sentence. She smiled again brightly, as I belatedly registered that she thought I was just another visiting princess that had passed out at the shock of the Seers collapsing. My mouth twitched. If I had been in her place, I wouldn't have been able to keep from making a crack on fainting being remarkably fashionable all of a sudden.

My door swung open, and two imposing figures walked in. The woman was elderly and pushing it; the man was completely gray haired but didn't look much past fifty. They nodded to Healer Gelsia who curtsied and left, and made more proper bows to me.

"Your Highness," the man said as soon as he straightened up. "We are aware of your position and your use of power concerning the Lord Seer Tyron." He scowled, and I swallowed my smile and request to see the Seers. "That was supremely foolish of you."

Apparently I was going to swallow my expectations of being praised as well. "But -"

"You spent all of your considerable power on one man, when it would have been far more effective to only loosen the bindings and allow a low-ranking Healer to take over. While you have the capacity to bridge the bind without exhausting yourself, if you insist on the follow through as well you will drain yourself, as you did last night. Doing such, you have wasted half a day before we can easily begin reviving Seers, as none of the regular Healers have the amount of power you do to breach the binding."

I turned to the woman. "Do you have any idea what he said? Because I lost him about as soon as his bow ended."

The woman smiled softly. "I believe you have been rebuked, Elmun." She nodded to me as I began to blush with embarrassment at my childish retort. "I apologize for my son, Your Highness. He is rather excitable when we find a new talent, and to have your insurmountable one discovered, only to have you unconscious for the rest of the day -" she shook her head. "It tends to make even the most patient of people upset."

I looked up at her pleadingly. "I'm sorry. But I don't actually know anything more about my - ability - than you do. _Please - _can I see the Seers? I need to know what's going on."

The woman's lips compressed into a thin line, but she wasn't directing her anger at me. "It was an attack," she said heavily. "Everything known about it is being kept secret for now - the High Council is meeting, though the Seers belonging to it are not yet able to attend. Lord Seer Tyron is awake, and the powers you invested in him are being siphoned off and used to awaken others. We don't think the attack was meant to kill, at all - with regular healers working, they could be awakened in under a week. However, that anyone was actually able to command power that knocked out hundreds of Seers . . ." she shook her head. "Your Highness," she said more formally, "we are here _because _you have been asked for. You are wished to join the High Council as soon as my son and I pronounce you fit to walk."

"Oh, I'm fit to walk," I exclaimed, swinging my legs off the bed, standing up, and promptly sitting back down. "Just . . . a little dizzy," I admitted sheepishly. A moment later I was able to follow them out the door.

The High Council had convened in one of the many halls throughout the palace. Everyone rose and bowed respectfully when I entered. Emperor Sair addressed me in the silent room, as I felt the combined gazes of the ten highest Mages amongst the nobility, the strongest ten Mages in the land, and ten members or representatives of the highest courts in the land. Twenty Seers were included on the council, but none of them were here. 

"Your Highness," the Mage-king said, meeting my eyes, "Please, have a seat." Nervously, I took the one he indicated, between a man I didn't recognize and a white haired woman I thought had been introduced to me as a Mage. We sat at an enormous round table made of polished mahogany. At the emperor's prompting, I lifted my chin and told exactly what I had done to Tyron. The people shifted, muttering, and I caught the word Seer more then once. I had the impression they would rather have the Seers there, as they were the ones who knew the most about me.

Come to that, I would rather have the Seers there as well. They knew more about me than _I _knew_._

"Princess Laeliena," Emperor Sair said, gesturing for silence. He favored me with a weary, sad smile. "We must apologize for this catastrophe as you have only just claimed your heritage. We assure you, our kingdom will offer all the support it can during this war. As for now - you are so young to be so burdened already. I wish it were not so," he said sadly, dropping the royal we for a second. "The only good news I can offer at the moment is that Lord Seer Aiven is awake. If you would care to see him . . .?"

It was obviously a dismissal; the king and High Council stood, and a soldier led me out. I realized for the first time that I was the only one there under twenty, too young to be considered ready to hear about war. With the title of "princess" I was classified as a delicate female as well. Irritably, I wondered if I still would have merited such patronizing treatment, had I just been known as the Daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin.

Probably, with my luck.

Though the rest of the High Council hadn't been filled with youngsters, the Seers were nearly all twenty-five or younger. I vaguely remembered Aiven mentioning that the older Seers stayed at home in their city, odd as that seemed. I would have thought each Seer would stay at his respective court . . .

"Your Highness? We've arrived."

_What _we had arrived at was a short hall, lined with twenty makeshift cots. The Seers of the High Council, at a guess. Not all the cots were filled; perhaps some were healthy enough to be able to leave. Healers walked around with iridescent balls floating after them, muttering and bending over patients. Most seemed to be stirring; Tyron was the closest to me, and wide awake.

"Feeling better?" I thought, cursing the good manners that seemed to have attached to me while spending time with Mariva. I would have given anything to ignore him and look for Aiven.

"Definitely not," he said almost jokingly. "The Healers have taken away most of the health you magiced into me. As it is, I still feel perfect. If I felt any better, it would be painful." He smiled. "I've never met a princess who can make me feel so wonderful when still wearing all her clothing."

I couldn't bite back a smile. "Isn't it a little too early to be flirting?" I asked archly.

He gave me a look of wide-eyed innocence. "My lady," he protested informally, "It is _never _too early to flirt. Without that, how would you know I was in good health?"

"With any luck, you _wouldn't _be," a dry voice came from behind me. I nodded courteously to Tyron, as I had the suspicion I wouldn't be turning around to talk to him again. Trying not to look concerned at the least, I turned to face Aiven.

To my relief, he didn't look sick. He looked irritated. He had discarded most of the robes and was clad only in silvery white trousers and the same colored billowing silk shirt, along with the necklace.

"Hello," I said a little nervously, walking over to his side. The cot was knee level, and I hovered beside it, not sure whether to kneel or stand. Aiven was sitting with his back against the wall, arms crossed, and legs hooked at the ankles. He was sitting on an untouched cot, and I was glad. I don't think I would have been able to deal with him tucked in like an invalid.

Oh, stop worrying so much, I thought in disgust. Unceremoniously, I dropped down beside him. "I don't suppose you'll explain what's going on," I mused, glancing up at his half-lidded eyes. 

"I'm recovering," he said shortly, staring straight ahead. We sat in silence for all of ten seconds before he swung his legs over and caught my gaze. "Are you all right?" he asked, searching my eyes. "I heard you fainted." He glanced over at Tyron, as if blaming him for that.

"I - used healing. I think." Suddenly irritated far past reasonability, I glared at him. "By the Lady, Aiven, when's someone going to teach me how to control this? I was already scolded by a Healer about not rationing my power, about how I should just have loosened the "binding" - I had no idea what he was talking about! And then all of you collapsed, just like that - You didn't _see _yourself, Aiven. You didn't see yourself go all pale and wobbly, and your eyes completely colorless like eyes shouldn't _be, _and then _collapse._ You looked dead, Aiven! For a moment I thought you _were._"

Then I was shaking. I couldn't seem to stop the tremors that wracked through me. I felt like an absolute fool, practically kneeling at Aiven feet and shaking badly long after the actual event that caused the shudders. But I couldn't stop. To my absolute horror, my eyes started to tear, and I could feel the tension behind them. I closed them tightly, swallowing over the inconvenient lump in my throat. I wrapped my arms around my body - and then there was another pair of arms.

Aiven had knelt down in front of me, carefully folding his arms around me, lightly holding my back with one hand. Another came up to hesitantly brush my hair back from my forehead. He didn't say anything - if I had been paying any attention I would have sensed he was afraid to move. I clenching his shoulders tightly in my hands, and let the tears fall, the ones I couldn't block no matter how hard I was trying. I buried my head in his shoulder, and he continued to slowly stroke my hair.

Tyron's voice interrupted my half-formed thoughts. "No wonder our warrior didn't put up more of a fight with being the Daughter's protector," he said lightly to the room at large.

It was enough that Aiven and I instantly separated. Aiven spun and stood, facing Tyron. I was only an instant behind. "Lord Seer Tyron," I said with a tight smile, before Aiven could begin, "I don't like being startled." I opened my hand to reveal the knife I'd automatically flicked into it at his voice. "And I didn't ask for your opinion."

He raised his eyebrows, then inclined his head. "Forgive me. It seems you don't even need a protector." His smile was charming. Mine was withering. 

Aiven and Tyron locked eyes for a long moment, then both looked away. I wondered if I should be adding telepathy to the list of Seers' hidden talents. I sincerely hoped not.

"Sit down," Aiven said firmly, taking my arm and pushing me down on the cot. "You've worn yourself out."

"No I haven't," I protested automatically. I opened my mouth to say more, but was caught off guard by the unexpected look in Aiven's eyes.

And caught off guard by the Healer who effectively maneuvered herself in front of Aiven and caught my hands. "Your Highness," she said, and I immediately knew I was about to be treated like a small, needy child. Or a princess, which amounts to the same thing. 

"Your Highness," she said again. "I am Healer Veilenne. If you are rested, we'd like you to try infusing another Seer with healing again. That way, we can catch the power and transfer it more easily to other patients."

She were speaking of me using magic like I was pouring water onto someone, and they'd hold out cups and catch some of it. I stared at her in disbelief.

"It won't take that long, and then you can go back to resting -"

"No."

Healer Veilenne and I both turned to look at Aiven, who was glaring at the woman. "But Your Excellency -" the Healer began.

Aiven shook his head. "Princess Laeliena is too exhausted to use any more of her powers."

"But Princess Laeliena is the only one -"

"Princess Laeliena has done enough for today. She'll return here once she is more rested. Good day."

After watching the Healer curtsey and stalk off, I turned to Aiven with a half smile. "Princess Laeliena can speak for herself," said princess said.

"Threaten, yes. Speak - debatable."

I laughed, and allowed him to pull me off the cot. "Damslae," he began with a sheepish grin - something I'd never seen on him - "I have to contradict myself. Could I have a little of your healing?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Really, Aiven," I said archly, "How -" I searched my mind for the right word, then scowled when it didn't come. "Well, you know what I mean," I muttered, as Aiven tried and failed to muffle his laugh. "Besides," I continued irritably, "I don't actually know how to use it."

"I can - make an educated guess. There are several different ways to transfer healing power." For some reason his eyes slid away from mine, then caught them again with an odd smile. "Give me your hands."

Slowly, I did. His were warm and much bigger than mine, and I couldn't decide whether I wanted to leave my hands there or yank them away.

He locked his fingers through mine, holding them up inbetween us. "I'm not a Mage, Damslae," he said softly. "I can't take any of your power from you, I can't help it, I can't influence it in any way. This has to be you. All I can do is talk you through it." He took a deep breath, then instructed me to close my eyes and did the same.

"Try to feel the place where you took your power from the last time, when you healed Tyron. A pool of power. Find it . . . reach for it . . . is it there?"

"Um, no."

"That was helpful," he said sarcastically. "Look again." He calmed his voice. "Follow the magic you find within yourself. Maybe you associate it with something - a sound, a feeling, a memory -" _the scent of something that wasn't quite saffron_ "-and follow that to the center of your power. Surround yourself in it. Wrap the magic around you."

"Aiven, I don't know who told you about this magic pool thing but they were wrong." I opened my eyes so I could stare at him in annoyance, to find he had beaten me to it.

"It's been recorded by all the philosophers on magic, and confirmed by all the Healers and Mages I know," he argued. "It works for everyone."

"What about Seers?" I countered. "Where's your magic come form?"

"It's different for us."

"Well, maybe I'm more like you."

He laughed, which only served to make me angry. I glared and continued, "There's no magic pool for me. It's _everywhere_ and it's not something I can just harvest a strand of. It's like being aware of your skin - or more like your blood, because you're not really aware of it, but it's inside you and flowing through you and this - this is like that."

He released my hands and stepped back warily. "You sound too sophisticated on that. I thought you didn't know anything about your magic."

"I'd hardly call that knowing anything," I scoffed. "It's more like general knowledge."

His he frowned, then his face smoothed. "Or like a distant memory," he said distractedly, looking around the room.

"Exactly," I said triumphant that I had made him understand. 

He refocused on me. "And where do you think the memory came from, Laeliena?" he asked, brown eyes pinning my own.

I blinked. "I don't know, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"It came from her - the Princess Laeliena of Lahtorli. The girl who you once were. Whose memories everyone expected you to have completely."

I frowned. "I really wish you would stop saying things like that. It's a little nerve-wracking being told I had another life."

He drove his fingers through his hair, and took a deep breath. "Trust me, you're not the only one who finds it so. Look, just - try, all right? I've just been hit by one of the strongest waves of magic in centuries that has left most of my friends still unconscious. Despite that, I have to be able to speak at High Council and help reassure all of Court that we are safe. I'll have to be able to walk without collapsing."

I gestured at all the other Seers in the room - the awake ones were politely pretending not to watch us. "Then wouldn't I have to help the rest of them, too?"

He stared at me in amazement. "You really have no idea what you did, do you?"

I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Damslae, when you filled Tyron with your healing, you pushed in more power than he could hold. The Healers took the extra healing, and some of the healing that wasn't extra, but not necessary to Tyron, with them. They can put that healing into the other Seers and encourage it with their own Healing to bring them back to health. It will take longer then if you personally put the healing in, but it will work.

"The Seers that got the most of the power were woken up, and actually able to walk easily - like Corln, and Lauten, so that they could go speak with the Emperor. Tyron's being kept here so that more of your power can be siphoned off him."

"And you've obviously gotten all the power you need - you're awake, you're standing. Why do you want more? Wouldn't it make sense to help the other Seers?" I wasn't trying to be difficult; I was sincerely interested.

He shook his head. "You're wrong. You will have to help them later, but right now it's more important that I'm awake and alert. Because of you."

That took a moment to sink in. "Oh," I said finally, giving him a disdainful look, "because you've been appointed my keeper."

He smirked slightly. "That's one way to put in. And just so you know, I've received the least amount of your healing."

I rolled my eyes. "Which would explain why you look completely healthy, of course."

Aiven opened his mouth to respond, then snapped in shut and glared around the room. The other Seers became instantly interested in the walls, the blankets, and each other. "Come on," Aiven said, scowling, and I followed him out into the hall.

"I didn't need as much healing," he told me as soon as we were alone, "because my body was more resistant to the attack then anyone else's."

I was surprised, and showed it. "Why?"

His eyes locked with mine. "Because of you. Because you bleed off magic. The Healers were very certain of this. Regularly, you let off small magic."

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you telling me I sweat magic?"

His mouth quirked. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but yes. And when you're in high emotion, you radiate more. Whoever's around you absorbs it." He shrugged, as if in was no big deal. I, on the other hand, was staring at my arm in amazement, as if I'd see magic flecking off it. "I've been around you for months. Constantly, excepting this last week, and I seem to have absorbed a lot of the magic. Especially since you're always-" he smirked, "-in high emotion." I narrowed my eyes at him, but he ignored me as he continued. "I can't use it, I can't seem to touch it at all, but it seems to have warded off most of the attack. Why do you think I was the last Seer standing in the ballroom?"

I took a moment to process this. "So - the magic you took from me -"

"I didn't _take _it, you _gave _it."

I glared at him. "Trust me, I wouldn't hand any of my magic over to you willingly." I refocused. "My magic warded off the spell, mostly, and with a little of the power siphoned off Tyron you were awake - but you don't really have enough to bring you back to full health."

"No, I don't. The Healers didn't thing that they needed to give me very much - oddly enough," he said in an ironic tone, "they seemed to think that I would be the first person you would want to revive to health, so they wouldn't have to help me much."

"It's not my fault Healers make stupid assumptions," I told him. "But I told you, I don't understand this magic I have. I'll figure it out after breakfast." I hadn't eaten at all today and last night I had only eaten lightly. I started walking down the hallway, assuming Aiven would follow, assuming he would lead me back to my rooms or someplace else we could eat. I didn't expect him to call after me, voice weary, and turn around to find he hadn't moved a step. For the first time I noticed he was leaning against the wall, and his face was unusually pale.

"Damslae," he said again, "I'm exhausted. I'm not going to be able to walk you back to your rooms. Either give me some healing or refuse - just pick one. Otherwise you'll soon find yourself with an unconscious Seer on your hands." When I stared at him in disbelief, he just raised his brows mockingly. 

"You wouldn't really be unconscious," I protested. "You just spent all that time talking about how my magic warded off the attack from you."

If possible, his brows arched higher. "Would you care to wait and see?"

"No, and you know it," I muttered, stomping back towards him. "What's the easiest way to transfer energy?" I asked, looking up at him.

To my surprise he looked away, opened his mouth and snapped it shut. "Just try what you did with Tyron," he instructed.

"Easy to say when you're not the one doing it," I said, taking both his hands between mine. Closing my eyes, I tentatively recalled the scent of near-saffron, a little afraid it would overwhelm me as it had last time. It came quickly, and I didn't have to concentrate on it anymore; it just lingered about me. I tried to send the magic into Aiven through our hands, though not as forcefully as I had with Tyron. That hadn't worked til I lost control of it. I pushed at it in several different ways, until one of them seemed to latch onto part of Aiven, and easily as that my magic flowed into him.

The only problem was I couldn't stop.

I kept sending my magic as both of our eyes snapped open. Neither of us tugged our hands away; I _tried, _and it didn't work. Instead, our eyes widened as the pull became stronger, stronger than seemed right. Then it snapped, like an elastic, leaving us staring at each other in surprise and feeling slightly light headed.

"By the Lady, Damslae, you have got to learn how to control yourself."

"It's not exactly like I signed up for this," I said hotly. Not attempting to sound contrite, I asked, "Do you feel better?" 

"Yes - and no."

"That clears everything up."

He glared at me. "I have my health back, but I also feel - strange. Don't you?"

"Yes," I admitted reluctantly. I met his eyes to see him struggling not to smile. "What?"

"You always sound so sad when you have to agree with me," he said, smiling. I smiled back, and for a moment we stood there silently, sharing a private joke.

"Your Excellency!"

Of course, in the _next _moment, a clerk joined us. "Your Excellency," he repeated in a relieved voice, bowing deeply to us. "The Emperor requests all of the able High Council Seers to immediately attend the meeting."

"Lord Seers Corln, Paitre, and Lauten have already gone in," Aiven said, sounding slightly irritated at the interruption. "I will be a moment."

The clerk looked at me, then looked at Aiven, then gave a disapproving sniff. "It is a Council of War, your Excellency." He stood there, apparently waiting for Aiven to grovel for forgiveness and go with him.

Aiven looked down his nose in a rather Tullon-esque manner. "A moment _alone._" 

"Your Excellency," the man murmured, and bowed away.

"How come I didn't rate a Your Highness'?" I asked, amused. "Maybe I _should _wear a circlet."

Aiven's smile was slight and his eyes distant. When he finally gave his attention to me, his face was serious. "If you follow this hallway, you'll run into any number of servants able to take you to your rooms. Stay in them until I or Corln come for you - I'm sure Mariva will be there already." He turned as if to go, but I caught his wrist.

"What's going to happen?" I asked, searching his face. Everyone had been talking about a war for so long, but I had never really thought of being involved in it - of perhaps losing people I cared about in it."

His eyes were dark and clouded. "Our men are already in position at Sarlainth, where the battle between Clait and Tharlin will occur. The battle between the enemy and us will be just more bodies piling up there — so the ordinary people will not be aware or anything for at least a little while longer."

"Who are the people in Sarlainth? I thought all the fighting Seers were here."

"Not all — some of our people — and that includes Mages and knights — are there. The rest of us will not join the battlefields for a month at least. Until then, the High Council Seers will control our people from Bast."

"Will you always?" I asked, uncertain. "Stay in Bast, that is. Because you can't go into battle?"

He held my eyes for a long moment before turning to stare beyond me. "No," he finally said. "When most of the Seers go to war, you and I will be going to Jayklin, the Seer's city-country."


End file.
